ROUGH  RAMOMS 
COUNTRY 

EORGE  WHARTON  JAMES 


Books  by  George  Wharh 


IN    AND    AROUND    THE    GRAND    CAI>  _ 
COLORADO    RIVER    IN    ARIZONA. 
plates  and  77  illustrations  in  the  text.     Crown 

The  volume,  crowded  with  pictures  of  the  marvels  and  bea_  _ 
absorbing  interest.      Dramatic  narratives  of  hairbreadth  escapes  v- 
stories  of  Indians,  their  legends  and  customs,  and  Mr.  James'  ( 
give  a  wonderful  personal  interest  in  these  pages  of  graphic 
stupendous  natural  wonder  on  the  American  Continent.  —  Phi 

THE  INDIANS  OF  THE  PAINTED  DESER^ 
16  full-page  pictures  and  50  half-page  illustr""^ 
graphs.  Crown  8vo.  $2.00  net. 

"  Interesting  as  a  fairy  tale  and  valuable  for  its  accuracy  as 
and  "a  distinct  and  extremely  interesting  contribution  to  topog 
knowledge"  (Buffalo  Commercial),  is  this  book  by  Mr.  Jam 
describes  the  Navaho,  Hopi,  Wallapai,  and  Havasupai  Indians 

IN  AND  OUT  OF  THE  OLD  MISSIONS  O 
An  Historical  and  Pictorial  Account  of  the  Fi 
With  142  illustrations  from  photographs  showi 
tjjcrTnterior  decorations,  furniture,  pulpits,  c: 
sticks  of  the  Missions,  pictures  of  the  Saints,  < 
The  best  book  on  the  missions  and  the  Mission  Indians.  - 
Stands  as  the  authority  on  the  old  missions  of  California. 

material.  —  San  Francisco  Argonaut. 

THE  WONDERS  OF   THE    COLORADO    D 

California).    Its  River  and  its  Mountains,  11 
Springs,  its   Life  and  its  History  pictured  a* 
eluding  an  account  of  a  recent  journey  made  \ 
of  the  Colorado  River  to  the  mysterious  Si 
colored  frontispiece,  32  full-page  plates,  and 
and  ink  sketches  by  Carl  Eytel.    2  vols.    8vo. 

Will  long  remain  the  standard  work  on  the   Colorado 
Chronicle. 

A  remarkable  and  valuable  work.  —  The  Dialt  Chicago. 

THE  STORY  OF  SCRAGGLES.  An  Autobi 
Sparrow.  Illustrated  by  Sears  Gallagher  and 
I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00. 

A  tender  story  of  a  rare  friendship  between  a  man  and  a  15 
creation.  Seldom  has  so  pleasing  and  satisfying  a  bird  story  bet 


Herald. 


ts 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  Pub. 


THROUGH  RAMON A'S 
COUNTRY 


THE 

UNIVERSITY 

°f 


^  fl 

II 


6      - 


THROUGH 
RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 


BY 

GEORGE  WHARTON  JAMES 

AUTHOR   OF    "  IN    AND    AROUND   THE   GRAND    CANYON,"    "  THE 

OLD    MISSIONS   OF    CALIFORNIA, "    "  THE    WONDERS 

OF   THE    COLORADO    DESERT  "    ETC. 


WITH  MORE  THAN  100  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1909 


T35- 


BEICHIR 


Copyright,  1908, 
BY  EDITH  E.  FARNSWORTH. 


All  rights  reserved. 


Published  November,  1908. 


Cite  (Tutor  $3refis; 

BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN        .         .  1 

II.   THE  FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA  .          .  22 

III.  WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA        ...  63 

IV.  WAS  THERE  A  REAL  ALESSANDRO          .          .  76 
V.    ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  OP  RAMONA  AND  ALES- 

SANDRO  TOO  IDEAL            ....  83 

VI.   THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA        .          .          .          .  94 

VII.   SAN  GABRIEL,  THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA  .  116 

VIII.   THE  RAMONA  JEWELS          ....  126 

IX.   THE  ORIGINAL  OF  JIM  FARRAR      .         .          .  132 

X.  THE  ORIGINAL  OF  AUNT  Ri  141 

XI.   THE  VILLAGE  OF  SABOBA  AND  RAMONA          .  145 

XII.   THE  CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY          .  153 

XIII.  RAMONA'S  STAR  BASKET      ....  167 

XIV.  AN  INDIAN'S  FUNERAL  IN  RAMONA'S  GRAVE 

YARD  173 

XV.   THE  INDIANS  OF  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY    .         .  178 
XVI.   THREE  TRUE  STORIES  OF  INDIANS   IN   RA 
MONA'S  COUNTRY           ....  191 
XVII.    BASKET- WEAVING  AMONG  RAMONA'S  INDIANS  215 
XVIII.    INDIAN  EVICTIONS  IN  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY     .  229 
XIX.    MOUNT  SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS.          .  237 
X X .   THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOB AS  254 
XXI.   THE  STUDY  OF   FOLK  LORE  IN   RAMONA'S 

COUNTRY     .                                      .         .  263 

XXII.    RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCAN  MISSIONS          .  273 

XXIII.  THE  INDIGENOUS  ARCHITECTURE  OF  RAMONA'S 

COUNTRY     .                                               .  305 

XXIV.  THE  CORONELS  AND  THE  AUTHOR  OF  RAMONA  309 
XXV.    MRS.  JACKSON  AND  ABBOTT  KINNEY      .          .  314 


180890 


vi    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

XXVI.    A  FEW  LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  RAMONA  328 

XXVII.   THE  STAGING  OF  RAMONA    ....  348 

XXVIII.   RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  RAMONA'S  DAY          .  357 

XXIX.    RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  TO-DAY          .          .          .  374 

XXX.    A  CLIMATIC  WONDERLAND   .  380 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  City  of  Pasadena,  from  Mt.  Wilson          .          .    Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  from  painting  made  while  studying 

the  conditions  of  the  Indians  of  Southern  California   .  xii 

Don  Antonio  Franco  Coronel        .          .          .          .          .  18 

Dona  Mariana  F.  Coronel    .          .          .          .                    .  18 
Father  Ubach,  of  San  Diego,   the  Father  Gaspara    of 

Ramona     ...          .          .          .          .          .  19 

Mission  chair  at  San  Buenaventura       .          .          .          .  19 

The  Rancho  Camulos  and  the  Santa  Clara  Valley     .          .  24 
The  washing  place  under  the  old  Willows  at  Guajome, 

Southern  California      .          .          .          .          .       •  .,  ' 
The  torn  altar  cloth  at  Camulos,  from  which  Mrs.  Jackson 

made  an  interesting  part  of  her  story        .   ,       .          .  25 

The  altar  at  Camulos,  showing  the  torn  altar  cloth   .  25 

A  flock  of  sheep  in  Ramona's  country     .          .          .  36 

Branding  cattle  in  Ramona's  country     .          .                    .  36 

Indian  granary  for  acorns     .          .          .          .          .          .  37 

Moss-covered  live  oaks  in  Ramona's  country  ...  37 

Manzanita  bush  in  blossom,  January,  1906      ...  52 
The  blossoms  of  the"  Candlestick  of  Our  Lord,"  or  Yucca 

Whipplei 52 

The  entrance  to  one  of  the  canyons  of  Southern  California  53 

The  Mountain  White  Lilac  in  bloom,  June,  1907       .  53 

A  Cahuilla  Indian  carrying  a  load  in  her  red,  or  net  .          .  56 

An  Indian  at  San  Gabriel,  Ramona's  birthplace        .  56 
A  Cahuilla  woman  making  acorn  flour  in  mortar,  with 

basket  hopper      .....  56 
The  Home  of  Father  Ubach  (Father  Gaspara)  at  old  San 

Diego          .....  .57 

The  altar  in  the  old  San  Diego  Chapel     ,  .57 

vii 


viii   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Facing  Page 

Title  page  of  .marriage  register  of  San  Luis  Obispo,   in 

Junipero  Serra's  handwriting           ....  60 
Ruins  of  adobe  house  at  Saboba  that  fell  and  killed  several 

Indians       ........  61 

El  Monte  and  the  Puente  Hills,  in  the  San  Gabriel  Valley  61 
Hotel  at  Idylwild,  Strawberry  Valley,  in  the  San  Jacinto 

Mountains           .......  78 

Indian  homes  on  the  Pachanga  Reservation    ...  78 

The  Inner  Veranda  at  Guajome     .....  79 

The  Grape  Arbor  at  Guajome  ......  79 

Snow  on  the  mountains  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Range,  while 

the  valley  is  in  the  dress  of  perpetual  summer    .          .  98 

In  the  courtyard  at  Guajome,  Southern  California .  .          .  99 

The  sheep-shearing  place  at  Guajome     ....  99 
Indian  women  winnowing  grain  and    pounding    it  in 

granite  mortars  .......  102 

El     Recreo,    Don     Antonio    Coronel's    home,    in    Los 

Angeles,  where  Mrs.  Jackson  used  to  visit           .          .  102 

South  Veranda  and  Garden  at  Camulos            .          .          .  103 
San  Gabriel  Mission,  near  where  Ramona  is  said  to  have 

been  born 103 

Entrance  to  the  chapel  at  Camulos          .          .          .          .112 

The  bells  at  the  old  San  Diego  Chapel     .          .          .          .  112 

The  old  bells  at  Camulos 113 

Weaving  the  Franciscan  waist-cord  at  Santa  Barbara        .  113 

The  balcony  at  Camulos       .          .          .          .          .          .  116 

The  barred  window  at  Camulos,  pointed  out  as  the  room 

in  which  Ramona  was  confined        .          .          .          .  116 

An  old  olive  oil  mill  of  Ramona' s  day      .          .          .          .  117 

Six-ox  team  drawing  a  load  of  hay  in  Ramona' s  day            .  117 
Sam  Temple,  the  slayer  of  Juan  Diego,  hauling  lumber 

down  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains  .  .          .          .          .  134 
Judge  Tripp  (Wells)  and  Jim  Farrar  (Sam  Temple)  at  the 

house  where  the  latter  was  tried  for  the  murder  of 

Juan  Diego     .      . 

Mrs.  Jordan,  the  original  of  Aunt  Ri       .          .  135 

An  Indian  home  at  Pachanga,  Southern  California  .          .  135 

An  Indian  kish  at  Saboba                         ....  144 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  ix 

Facing  Page 
A    Cahuilla   kish,   built  in   the  style    found  when   the 

padres  first  came  to  California          .          .          .          .  144 

The    Cahuilla  Ramona  at  the  Ramada   of   her  brother  145 

Ramona  weeping  at  the  grave  of  Alessandro  (Juan  Diego)  145 
The  Cahuilla  Ramona  leaving  the  grave  of  her  murdered 

husband      ........  145 

A  Southern  California  Indian  of  to-day            .          .          .  154 

Sam  Temple,  the  Jim  Farrar  of  Ramona           .          .          .  154 

The  Cahuilla  Ramona 154 

The  peach  trees  planted  by  Juan  Diego             .          .          .  155 
In  Juan   Diego   Valley,   near   Mt.   San  Jacinto,   where 

Alessandro  took  Ramona        .....  155 
Ruins  of  the  house  occupied  by  Ramona  and  Juan  Diego, 

and  where  the  latter  was  killed          ....  155 
The  wild  roses  near  Ramona's  cottage,  where  Majella  was 

born,  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains            .          .          .  155 
A  glimpse  of  the  Cahuilla  Valley,  near  where  Ramona 

now  lives     ........  158 

The  path  up  which  Ramona  fled  to  Cahuilla     ...  158 
The  Cahuilla  Ramona  pointing  out  the  grave  of  her  mur 
dered  husband      .......  158 

The  jail  at  Cahuilla,  with  Condino,  Ramona's  son,  and  a 

boy  playmate  inside       ......  158 

The  Thomas  Ranch,  where  lived   the  nearest  friendly 

whites  to  Ramona  and  Juan  Diego             .          .          .  159 
An  Indian  funeral  in  the   graveyard  in  Cahuilla  where 

Alessandro  (Juan  Diego)  is  buried    ....  159 

The  Cahuilla  Ramona  and  her  star  basket  .                .          .  168 
The  Cahuilla  Ramona  telling  her  story  into  the  grapho- 

phone 168 

A  Saboba  Indian  basket  weaver  and  her  "  bat  "  basket      .  168 

The  Hartsell  (Wolf)  Store,  near  Temecula         ...  168 
A  Southern   California     Indian   of  to-day,   at   the   San 

Diego   Mission   school  ......  169 

Ocha  and  her  husband     .......  169 

Old  Dox,  the  grandmother  of  the  Mohave  Ramona   .          .  169 

Jose  Pedro  Lucero,  a  story-teller  of  the  Saboba  Indians      .  192 

Jose  Pedro  Lucero  and  his  wife  at  their  home  in  Saboba      .  192 


x     THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Facing  Page 

Two  of  the  Indians  that  were  evicted  from  Warner's 

Ranch 192 

One  of  the  evicted  Indians  at  her  basket  work            .          .  193 

An  evicted  Indian  from  Warner's  Ranch          .          .          .  193 
Leonardo  Owlinguwish,  a  Palatingwa  Indian,  who  was  a 

scout  for  General  Kearny,  in  1847             .          .          .  193 
Mrs.  Babbitt's  collection  of  baskets,  made  by  the  Indians 

of  Ramona's  country     ......  218 

A  Palatingwa  Basket             .                  >  .          .          .          .  219 

The  Burro  and  Trough  Design 219 

Mrs.  Babbitt's  celebrated  Rattlesnake  Basket           .          .  219 

Palatingwa  Design 219 

Ruins  of  the  Indians' Church  at  San  Pasquale           .          .  232 
Indians  at  Agua  Caliente  spinning  yucca  fibre  to  make 

door-mats,  etc.     .......  232 

The  Hot  Springs  on  Warner's  Ranch,  San  Diego  County, 

California 233 

The  village  of  Palatingwa,  Warner's  Ranch,  from  which 

the  Indians  were  evicted         .....  233 
The  author  and  friends  on  the  way  to  the  summit  of  Mt. 

Sanjacinto 238 

Camping  below  Lily  Peak  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains  .  238 
Don  Antonio  Coronel  and  his  wife,  at  their  home  in  Los 

Angeles 239 

Franciscans  ploughing  at  Santa  Barbara          .          .          .  290 

Bringing  in  the  cows  at  Santa  Barbara  ....  290 

Franciscans  shelling  peas  at  Santa  Barbara     .          .          .  291 

Feeding  the  chickens  at  Santa  Barbara  .  .  .  .  291 
Brother  Eugene  and  some  of  his  wood-carving  at  Santa 

Barbara 296 

Securing  a  swarm  of  bees  at  Santa  Barbara      .          .          .  297 

Recreation  hour  for  the  monks  at  Santa  Barbara      .          .  297 

Cultivating  in  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission  garden      .          .  300 

In  the  vegetable  garden,  Santa  Barbara  Mission       .          .  300 

In  the  blacksmith  shop  at  Santa  Barbara  .  .  .  301 
A  monk's  bedroom  at  Santa  Barbara  .  .  .  .301 
A  group  of  Mission  Indian  children  at  the  Sisters'  School, 

San  Diego  Mission 304 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS  xi 

Facing  Page 
A  group  of  Southern  California  Indian  children,  after 

taking  a  ride  in  an  automobile  with  the  author  .  304 
Some  of  the  buildings  of  the  Sherman  Institute,  Indian 

School,  Riverside,  California  .  .  .  .  305 
Indian  girls  and  their  teachers  at  the  Ramona  Home, 

Indian  School,  Riverside,  California  .  .  .  305 

Mt.  San  Antonio  in  the  snow,  from  Wilson's  Peak  .  316 
Looking  from  Mt.  Wilson  towards  Mt.  San  Antonio,  after 

sunrise  in  summer          .          .          .          .          .          .  317 

In  the  snow  on  Mt.  Wilson  on  New  Year's  Day  .  .  317 
The  Franciscan  monastery  at  Santa  Barbara,  the  towers 

of  the  old  Mission  at  the  right  ....  358 
The  Franciscan  priests,  clerics,  and  lay  brothers,  at  Santa 

Barbara 358 

Franciscan  making  baskets  at  San  ta  Barbara  Mission  .  359 

An  old  California  carreta  —  the  carriage  of  Ramona's  day  359 
The  electric  lights  of  Pasadena,  Los  Angeles,  and  Santa 

Monica,  seen  from  Mt.  Wilson  ....  376 

A  Southern  California  Orange  Grove  ....  377 

A  modern  hotel  in  Mission  style,  Riverside,  California  .  377 

A  patch  of  Lupines  in  blossom  in  Southern  California  .  380 
On  the  beach  after  a  New  Year's  Day  swim  in  the  Pacific 

Ocean 380 

Looking  from  Mt.  Wilson  to  Mt.  San  Antonio  in  winter  .  381 
An  ocean  of  fog,  looking  towards  Pasadena  from  Mt. 

Wilson 381 

The  Hotel  at  Mt.  Wilson  after  the  first  snow  .  .  .  392 

The  Hotel  at  Mt.  Wilson  after  several  snow-storms  .  .  392 

Lambert  (Sugar)  Pine,  with  cones,  on  Mt.  Wilson  .  .  393 
The  Yucca  Whipplei  in  bloom  above  Pasadena,  in  June 

and  July,  1907 393 

One  of  the  flower-embowered  carriages  at  the  Pasadena 

Tournament  of  Roses  .  .  .  .  .  398 

A  school  turnout  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses  .  398 

A  float  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses  .  .  399 

One  of  the  floats  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses  ,  399 


Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  from  painting  made  while  studying  the  conditions  of 

the  Indians  of  Southern  California 

By  A.  F.  Harmer 

Page  xii 


HE 

UN!  VERS1TY 

or 


HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON 

BY  INA  COOLBRITH 

What  songs  found  voice  upon  those  lips, 
What  magic  dwelt  within  the  pen, 

Whose  music  into  silence  slips, 
Whose  spell  lives  not  again  ! 

For  her  the  clamorous  to-day 
The  dreamful  yesterday  became; 

The  brands  upon  dead  hearths  that  lay 
Leaped  into  living  flame. 

Clear  ring  the  silvery  Mission  bells 
Their  calls  to  vesper  and  to  mass; 

O'er  vineyard  slopes,  thro'  fruited  dells 
The  long  processions  pass; 

The  pale  Franciscan  lifts  in  air 

The  Cross  above  the  kneeling  throng: 

Their  simple  world  how  sweet  with  prayer , 
With  chant  and  matin  song! 


There,  with  her  dimpled,  lifted  hands, 
Parting  the  mustard's  golden  plumes, 

The  dusky  maid,  Ramona,  stands 
Amid  the  sea  of  blooms. 

And  Alessandro,  type  of  all 

His  broken  tribe,  for  ever  more 
An  exile,  hears  the  stranger  call 
i  Within  his  father's  door. 

The  -visions  -vanish  and  are  not, 

Still  are  the  sounds  of  peace  and  strife, 
Passed  with  the  earnest  heart  and  thought 

Which  lured  them  back  to  life. 

O  Sunset  land!  O  land  of  -vine, 

And  rose,  and  bay!     In  silence  here 

Let  fall  one  little  leaf  of  thine, 
With  lo-ve,  upon  her  bier. 


FOREWORD 

At  the  outset  it  cannot  be  too  clearly  and  positively 
stated  that  the  story  of  Ramona  is  a  wonderful  mosaic 
of  fact  and  fiction.  Just  as  the  detached  and  dis 
similar  pieces  of  mosaic,  of  different  color,  of  different 
origin,  perhaps,  and  gathered  from  various  sources 
are  fitted  together  and  held  to  each  other  in  one  co 
herent  mass  in  the  matrix  of  binding  cement,  so  the 
isolated,  unrelated,  and  different  facts  in  the  story  of 
Ramona  are  held  together  in  one  coherent  mass  by  the 
binding  fiction  of  the  author's  genius.  As  I  shall  show 
later  there  is  scarcely  a  statement  of  fact  relating  to 
the  country,  the  Spanish  home  life,  of  description,  of 
the  treatment  of  the  Indians,  etc.,  in  the  whole  book 
that  is  not  literally  true,  but  it  is  not  true  as  related  to 
the  fictitious  hero  and  heroine  of  the  book,  who  are 
pure  creations  of  the  author's  brain.  Yet  even  here 
she  was  aided  by  what  she  saw,  and,  as  we  shall  see, 
facts  that  actually  occurred  were  woven  into  the  lives 
of  her  fictitious  hero  and  heroine. 

As  one  well-known  Southern  California  writer  has 
well  said:  "The  story  of  Ramona  is,  one  ought  not 
to  need  to  say,  pure  fiction.  '  Ramona  '  never  lived, 
nor  '  Alessandro,'  nor  the  '  Senora  Moreno,'  nor  any 
one  else  in  the  book,  The  commonest  and  cheapest 

xv 


xvi  FOREWORD 

lies  told  in  California  are  perhaps  those  of  people  who 
'  knew  the  original  Ramona  '  or  '  the  half-breed  Indian, 
Alessandro,  who  was  killed  for  horse-stealing,'  and  all 
the  rest  of  this  silly  basking  of  the  small  in  the  sun 
shine  of  greatness." 

Susan  Coolidge  in  her  Introduction,  says:  "  On  her 
(Mrs.  Jackson's)  desk  that  winter  stood  an  unframed 
photograph,  after  Dante  Rossetti,  —  two  heads,  a 
man's  and  a  woman's,  set  in  a  nimbus  of  cloud,  with  a 
strange  beautiful  regard  and  meaning  in  their  eyes. 
They  were  exactly  her  idea  of  what  Ramona  and 
Alessandro  looked  like,  she  said.  The  characters  of 
the  novel  never,  I  think,  came  so  near  to  materializa 
tion  in  her  eyes  as  in  this  photograph.  It  was  a 
purely  ideal  story.  ...  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose, 
from  anything  said  by  her,  that  she  intentionally 
described  any  exact  place  or  person." 

Let  it  never  be  forgotten,  then,  that  Ramona  is  a 
structure  composed  of  fact  and  fiction;  that  while  the 
story  as  a  whole,  the  hero,  and  heroine  are  fictions, 
many  of  the  isolated  facts  of  the  romance  had  their 
absolute  origin  in  the  life  history  of  this  unfortunate 
people.  The  descriptions  of  the  Missions  of  Southern 
California,  of  the  habits  of  the  Spaniards,  Mexicans, 
and  earlier  Americans,  and  of  the  life  and  condition 
of  the  Indians,  are  no  less  historically  true  than  graphic 
and  powerful.  Hence  the  book  is  more  than  a  novel. 
It  is  more  than  a  history.  It  is  more  true  than  fact, 
for  it  is  no  less  true  than  paradoxical  that  "  there  are 
many  things  more  true  than  fact."  It  is  a  contribution 


FOREWORD  xvii 

to  the  history  of  our  treatment  of  the  Indians  that  is 
worth  more  to  the  American  people  than  all  the  official 
reports  of  a  score  of  Indian  bureaus.  It  has  awak 
ened  public  sentiment  and  the  public  conscience  on 
behalf  of  the  Indians,  and  one  result  of  its  publication 
has  been  a  decided  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  better 
class  of  politicians  towards  these,  their  helpless  wards. 

There  is  no  denying  the  statement  that  Ramona  has 
done  more  to  arouse  sympathy  in  the  minds  of  the 
American  people  for  the  Indian  than  all  other  causes 
put  together.  The  sweet,  tender  pathos  of  the  story, 
Mrs.  Jackson's  profound  oneness  with  the  love-stricken 
hero  and  heroine  and  their  afflicted  people,  her  ex 
quisite  touches  of  description,  her  keen  appreciation 
of  all  good  in  the  Indian  and  the  strong  points  in  their 
character,  her  consummate  literary  skill,  all  com 
bined  to  make  Ramona  a  power  in  the  land. 

It  is  to  further  contribute  to  the  good  work  begun 
and  carried  on  in  so  masterly  a  manner  and  to  give  to 
the  people  at  large  many  facts  that  nearly  thirty  years 
of  gleaning  have  gathered  that  I  have  presumed  to 
write  the  following  pages.  If  they  aid  in  deepening 
the  practical  sympathy  of  the  American  people  for  an 
unfortunate  and  dying  race  I  shall  be  gratified  and 
satisfied. 


Pasadena,  California,  August,  1908- 


THROUGH  RAMONA'S 
COUNTRY 


CHAPTER  I 

WHY   RAMONA   WAS   WRITTEN 

THE  novel  with  a  purpose  is  generally  con 
demned  by  the  critics  as  inartistic,  and  there 
fore  "  not  literature."  There  are  more  foolish  opinions 
recorded  as  the  judgments  and  decisions  of  "  critics  " 
than  can  ever  be  numbered.  Artistic  work  —  litera 
ture  —  is  not  to  be  lightly  cast  aside  upon  the  mere 
ipse  dixit  of  some  fancied  authority.  Authorities  are 
made  by  literature,  not  literature  by  authorities. 
There  would  never  have  been  a  grammar  of  the  Eng 
lish  language  written  had  there  not  first  been  a  lan 
guage  to  write  about.  Yet  the  makers  of  grammars 
have  ever  deemed  themselves  important  enough  and 
possessed  of  critical  judgment  sufficient  to  point  out 
the  "  errors  "  of  the  men  and  women  who  have  made 
the  language.  I  would  far  rather  follow  the  English 
of  George  Eliot,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Thackeray,  Carlyle, 
Ruskin,  Cardinal  Newman,  ay,  and  even  Charles 
Dickens,  than  that  of  critic-purists  and  grammarians. 
And  I  wish  to  go  further  and  acknowledge  that  I  pre 
fer  the  living,  palpitant  language  in  its  formative 


2    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

stages,  when  men  like  Kipling  are  remoulding  it,  to  the 
formal,  rhetorical  language  of  the  days  of  Addison, 
•  Burke,  Johnson  and  Edward  Everett.  Lincoln's  pure 
simple-hearted  genuine  utterances  at  Gettysburg  live 
and  forever  will  live,  so  long  as  the  human  heart  re 
sponds  to  human  emotions,  while  the  "  brilliant 
rhetoric,"  the  "  grand  oration  "  of  the  distinguished 
and  learned  scholar  who  preceded  him  with  the 
"  oration  of  the  day,"  are  forgotten  save  in  the  gram 
mar  books  of  men  who  prefer  high  sounding  words  and 
bombastic  phrases  to  pure,  heartfelt,  sincere  thought 
and  emotion.  The  day  of  the  "  orator  "  is  dying. 
The  day  of  the  simple  user  of  words,  whose  yea  is  yea, 
and  nay,  nay,  is  dawning  bright  and  clear.  It  will  be 
a  day  of  blessing  to  the  human  race,  for  language  then 
will  not  be  a  vehicle  for  the  hiding  of  thought  and 
feeling,  but  of  sincere,  pure,  true,  simple  expression. 

Herein  is  one  secret  of  the  power  of  the  story  of 
Ramona.  Its  author  had  a  pure,  deep,  strong  pur 
pose.  She  was  not  afraid  to  pour  out  her  heart's 
inner  feelings;  she  had  no  dread  of  being  enthusiastic. 
To  her  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  to  which  her  life  was 
devoted  was  good.  It  was  en  theos  —  in  God  —  God 
in  —  and  she  wished  to  be  full  of  the  God,  —  the 
good  —  as  she  sought  to  reach  the  hearts  of  the  Ameri 
can  people  in  behalf  of  the  Indian  whom  their  unprin 
cipled  politicians  had  so  cruelly  wronged. 

She  had  seen  for  herself,  felt  for  herself,  the  injuries 
that  our  political  system  had  forced  upon  the  Indian. 

Men  who  originally  had  no  desire  co  harm  or  defraud 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  3 

the  Indian,  were  dragged  into  the  political  machine  and 
compelled  to  share  in  the  common  attack  (arid  incident 
ally  reap  some  of  the  financial  emoluments),  or  go 
down  into  political  oblivion.  The  pass-word  of  the 
gang  of  harpies  and  vultures  of  her  day  was:  "  The 
only  good  Indian  is  a  dead  Indian."  We  wanted  the 
land  the  Indians  roamed  over,  we  wanted  the  forests 
they  lived  in  during  the  summer,  we  wanted  the  game 
they  hunted  for  food,  we  wanted  the  streams  in 
which  they  fished,  we  wanted  springs,  especially  in 
the  desert  and  arid  regions,  from  which  they  secured 
water  for  themselves  and  their  flocks  and  herds; 
indeed  we  wanted  everything  they  possessed  that  we 
thought  we  could  use,  for  were  we  not  "  the  superior 
race,"  and  had  not  God  given  to  us  this  great  country 
to  use  simply  and  solely  for  our  own  benefit? 

What  to  us  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Fatherhood  of 
God?  What  cared  we  about  the  brotherhood  of  man? 
Those  doctrines  applied  only  to  our  own  race,  our 
own  people;  and  these  Indians  were  bronze-skinned 
and  only  "  savages."  Because  they  were  bronze- 
skinned  and  wore  the  rude  robes  of  their  forefathers, 
the  dressed  pelts  of  animals;  because  they  did  not 
herd  themselves  in  cities,  in  crowded  streets  and  tene 
ment  and  apartment  houses,  and  build  hotels  and 
court-houses  and  churches  in  which  to  live  and  practice 
"  law  "  one  upon  another,  and  have  some  one  teach 
them  "  religion,"  they  were  necessarily  "  heathen  " 
and  lawless  and  religionless.  Hence  why  spare  them? 
They  were  dreadfully  insistent  at  times  that  they  had 


4     THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"  rights."  They  didn't  like  to  have  their  springs 
taken  away;  they  resented  being  told  that  they  must 
no  longer  hunt  over  the  plains  where  their  ancestors  had 
hunted  before  ever  a  white  man  trod  the  Continent; 
they  resisted  when  they  were  driven  from  their  corn 
fields  by  civilized  white  men.  They  had  the  impu 
dence  to  be  angry  when  members  of  this  great,  noble, 
and  Christian  white  race  assaulted  their  wives  and 
daughters  and  perforce  made  harlots  of  them.  They 
were  foolish  and  simple-hearted  enough  to  expect 
white  men  —  especially  officers  of  the  army  and 
government  —  to  speak  the  truth  when  they  pledged 
their  words  of  honor,  even  in  solemn  treaty,  that  they 
—  the  Indians  —  should  be  protected  in  all  the  rights 
they  had  enjoyed  from  time  immemorial.  Their  old 
men  thought  they  were  patriotic  when  they  pleaded 
with  the  representatives  of  the  white  race  to  prohibit 
the  selling  of  alcoholic  liquors  to  their  young  men  and 
their  women;  they  saw  the  havoc  the  deadly  fire 
water  was  causing  and  wished  to  stay  its  insidious 
influence;  but  we  were  a  great  commercial  nation  and 
could  not  interfere  with  the  vested  interests  of  our 
brewers  and  whiskey  distillers,  simply  to  please  a  few 
"  brutal,  ignorant  savages."  What  did  the  damnation 
of  the  bodies  —  never  mind  the  souls  —  of  a  few 
thousands  of  Indians  amount  to  compared  with  the 
commercial  interests  of  "  our  great  and  wonderful 
country?  "  The  Indians  had  a  kind  of  an  idea  that  the 
land  they  had  used  for  centuries  belonged  to  them, 
but  it  was  left  for  a  California  court  of  justice,  — 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  5 

confirmed  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State  and 
afterwards  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
—  to  show  them  the  foolishness  of  such  an  idea.  How 
ridiculous  that  they  could  have  any  rights  in  land  that 
white  men  wanted.  WHITE  men,  mind  you,  white 
men!  It  didn't  matter  that  these  particular  white 
men  were  thieves,  liars,  drunkards,  sensualists,  mur 
derers,  all-round  criminals,  —  they  were  white !  And 
any  white  man  was  better  than  all  Indians.  Nay, 
did  not  some  of  our  distinguished  army  generals  and 
officers  repeat  constantly  in  our  hearing  that  "  the  only 
good  Indian  was  a  dead  Indian,"  and  —  when  we 
wanted  the  Indian's  land  and  springs  and  forests  — 
didn't  we  see  the  perfect  truth  of  this  humane  and 
Christian  (!)  statement. 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson  saw  all  these  things,  and  being 
a  good  and  noble  woman  (even  though  her  skin  was 
white),  with  red  blood  coursing  through  her  heart,  and 
ability  to  use  her  own  brain,  regardless  of  what  others 
said,  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that  no  matter  what 
we  called  ourselves,  or  the  Indians,  our  conduct  towards 
them  was  not  Christian,  was  not  honest,  was  not  true, 
was  not  civilized,  was  not  anything,  in  fact,  that  was 
good,  decent,  honorable  and  commendable,  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  fiendish,  monstrous,  and  cruel  in 
the  extreme.  But,  being  a  woman  of  wisdom  and 
tact,  and  knowing  the  men  she  had  to  deal  with,  she 
went  to  work  to  help  ameliorate  the  awful  conditions 
that  she  saw  around  her  on  every  hand  in  relation  to 
our  treatment  of  the  Indians  of  the  country. 


6    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Only  under  such  circumstances  could  so  powerful 
and  sympathetic  a  story  have  been  written.  Mrs. 
Jackson  wrote  herself  into  her  book,  as  well  as  the 
Indians  she  depicted.  It  is  a  book  of  self  revelation, 
as  well  as  a  pathetic  story  of  wrongs  done  to  a  helpless 
and  inferior  people  by  a  powerful  and  so-called  superior 
race.  In  it  we  see  the  author's  sympathetic  nature 
pleading  for  justice,  for  right,  for  helpfulness  for 
those  who  were  unable  to  plead  for  themselves.  It  is 
a  sublime  plea,  revealing  a  God-touched  nature, 
bravely  and  fearlessly  speaking  unpleasant  truth,  even 
as  Christ  spake.  She  herself  said  on  her  death  bed :  "  I 
did  not  write  '  Ramona  '  ;  it  was  written  through  me. 
My  life-blood  went  into  it  —  all  I  had  thought,  felt, 
and  suffered  for  five  years  on  the  Indian  question." 

During  these  five  years  the  idea  of  writing  Ramona 
was  bubbling  in  her  brain. 

Little  by  little  it  assumed  shape.  Mrs.  Jackson  had 
seen  enough  of  Southern  California  to  have  absorbed 
its  spirit,  its  sunshine,  its  glowing  atmosphere,  and  now, 
filled  with  facts  about  the  Indians  over  which  she  had 
deeply  brooded,  until  they  had  become  vivid  pictures 
engraved  upon  her  very  soul,  she  began  to  write. 
Once  the  pen  was  in  her  hands,  a  divine  frenzy  seized 
her.  She  wrote  as  one  possessed.  Indeed  she  wrote 
to  her  publisher  that  it  was  only  the  physical  impos 
sibility  that  prevented  her  from  finishing  it  at  a  sit 
ting,  for,  said  she,  "  I  have  the  whole  story  at  my 
finger  ends." 

Its  publication  formed  an  epoch.     When  it  appeared. 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  7 

in  1884,  many  critics  hailed  it  "  the  great  American 
novel."  Throbbing  with  emotion,  palpitant  with 
life,  vivid  in  its  picturing  of  all  the  scenes,  whether  of 
inanimate  or  animate  nature,  realistic  in  its  delinea 
tions  of  human  character,  sympathetic  in  its  dealings 
with  the  despised  and  downtrodden  Indians,  outspoken 
in  its  denunciation  of  the  wrongs  perpetrated  upon 
them;  recognized  at  once  as  an  authoritative  picture 
of  the  Spanish  California  life  of  the  time,  it  sprang  with 
a  bound  into  public  favor.  It  was  not  widely  heralded 
by  advertising  as  a  great  novel,  but  it  won  its  way  by 
its  own  power.  Few,  indeed,  of  the  popular  novels  that 
are  "  the  greatest  sellers  "  for  a  few  weeks  or  months 
are  remembered  after  a  year  or  two  are  gone,  but 
Ramona  is  as  widely  read,  and  almost  as  widely 
purchased  to-day,  as  when  it  was  in  the  full  dawn 
of  its  first  popularity.  Only  the  other  day  I  stood 
by  the  desk  of  a  "  baggage  smasher "  in  one  of 
the  baggage  rooms  of  a  railway  depot.  In  one  of  the 
pigeonholes,  ready  at  hand  for  a  spare  moment  or 
at  lunchtime,  was  a  well-worn  copy  of  "  Ramona." 
"  That's  the  bulliest  story  I  ever  read  in  my  life," 
said  the  rude-handed  son  of  toil,  in  response  to  my 
comment.  And  I  could  not  help  but  feel:  How  is  it 
possible  for  one  to  read  this  story  and  not  feel  its 
humanizing  influence.  Thus  the  good  work  goes  on. 
The  book  is  a  constant  missionary,  ever  silently,  but 
potently,  preaching  the  beautiful  doctrine  of  the 
humanity  of  all  men,  regardless  of  the  color  of  their 
skin,  and  the  Universal  Fatherhood  of  God.  Hence 


8    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

its  circle  of  friends  is  constantly  increasing.  The 
chief  reason  for  this  perennial  youth  of  the  book  is  its 
essential  truth.  Calling  a  book  a  history  doesn't 
make  it  true,  any  more  than  calling  it  a  novel  declares 
it  to  be  false.  This  is  one  of  the  "novels"  that  is 
"  truer  than  fact,"  for  it  puts  life  into  facts  and  makes 
them  real,  vivid,  convincing. 

There  is  decided  difficulty  in  determining  when 
Helen  Hunt's  interest  in  Indians  began.  "Susan 
Coolidge,"  in  her  Introduction  to  the  Pasadena  Edi 
tion  of  Ramona,  says  that  "  it  was  in  1880  that  during 
a  visit  to  Boston  she  encountered  the  Poncas,  Standing 
Bear  and  Bright  Byes,  and  heard  them,  at  a  public 
lecture,  tell  the  story  of  the  cruel  eviction  of  their  tribe. 

"  She  was  the  last  woman  in  the  world  of  whom  it 
could  have  been  predicted  that  she  would  lay  all  other 
things  aside  to  serve  a  moral  purpose,  but  that  was 
what,  thenceforth,  she  did. 

"  '  I  have  now  done,  I  believe,'  she  wrote  to  a  friend 
at  this  period,  '  the  last  of  the  things  I  have  said  I 
never  would  do.  I  have  become  what  I  have  said  a 
thousand  times  was  the  most  odious  thing  in  the 
world,  '  a  woman  with  a  hobby ! '  But  I  cannot  help 
it.  I  cannot  think  of  anything  else  from  night  to 
morning,  and  from  morning  to  night.'  ' 

The  quotation  from  her  letter  seems  to  fix  the  date 
clearly  enough,  and  yet  from  her  Century  of  Dishonor 
we  find  that  early  in  January  (the  ninth),  1880,  she 
was  writing  letters  to  Carl  Schurz,  then  the  Secretary 
of  the  Interior,  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  the  Poncas. 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  9 

She  also  wrote  under  the  signature  "  H.  H.,"  letters  to 
the  New  York  Tribune  about  the  Sand  Creek  (Colorado) 
Massacre  of  1864.  Hence,  it  was  most  probably  in 
1879  that  her  interest  was  so  intensely  aroused.  Pos 
sibly  hearing  the  Poncas  fired  her  to  an  immediate 
purpose  to  devote  her  energies  to  the  amelioration  of 
their  wretched  condition. 

What  a  vivid  light  this  impulsive,  sudden,  thorough 
action  throws  upon  her  character.  Emotional  to  a 
degree  she  must  have  been,  to  have  felt  the  movings 
of  her  own  soul  so  strongly  at  the  recital  of  the  wrongs 
of  these  defenceless  and  generally  friendless  red-skins. 
And  how  Divine  the  humanity  within  her  that  at  once 
made  her  responsible  for  the  attempt  to  do  something 
to  help  them.  She  did  not  consider  the  obstacles;  she 
did  not  ask  what  the  opinions  of  others  were  or 
might  be;  she  did  not  even  consult  those  nearest 
and  dearest  to  her.  A  clear  call  as  from  God  Himself 
entered  her  soul,  and  she  immediately  obeyed  it. 
Henceforth  all  minor  matters  must  shape  themselves, 
or  be  shaped  to  fit  the  one  great  purpose.  The  cool, 
deliberate,  cold-blooded,  careful  woman  would  have 
seen  the  objections;  would  have  asked  herself  if 
it  was  "  the  proper  thing  for  a  society  woman  to  do  "; 
would  have  thought  of  the  ridicule  she  would  bring 
upon  herself,  of  the  opposition  she  would  undoubtedly 
arouse,  of  the  hatred  she  would  possibly  provoke. 
She  would  not  have  dared  to  censure  generals,  and 
governors,  and  Indian  departments,  and  Indian  agents. 

But  Mrs.  Jackson,  with  sympathies  divinely  quickened 


io    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

to  realize  that  a  wrong  to  one  was  a  wrong  to  all,  and 
that  all  wrongs  perpetrated  unfailingly  injure  the 
wrongdoer,  disregarded  all  minor  considerations  in 
the  overwhelming  conviction  of  her  personal  duty. 
Thenceforward,  to  the  end  of  her  life,  nothing  turned 
her,  even  for  a  moment,  from  her  mission. 

Little  by  little  it  had  been  dawning  upon  the  Ameri 
can  people  that  the  Indians  were  not  being  properly 
treated.  Now  and  again  a  voice  was  heard,  loud  and 
clear,  in  protest.  But  politics  were  played  then,  as 
now,  for  the  financial  benefit  of  a  few,  and  the  Voice 
was  either  hushed,  or  its  words  drowned  in  a  rival 
clamor  gotten  up  for  the  purpose. 

The  national  dispute  upon  the  question  of  slavery, 
however,  with  the  humanitarian  pleas  of  good  men 
and  women  both  in  the  North  and  the  South  for  the 
more  kindly  treatment  of  all  human  beings;  the  fervid 
eloquence  of  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  Whittier,  Lowell, 
Wendell  Phillips,  Thomas  Starr  King,  Lovejoy,  John 
Brown  and  many  others,  and  the  powerfully  pathetic 
story  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  —  whatever  they  may 
have  done  to  help  on  the  inevitable  Civil  War,  —  were 
wonderful  educators  of  the  emotions  of  men  in  the 
right  direction.  Children  were  taught,  as  never  before, 
that  cruelties  to  the  helpless  were  abominable,  and 
all  this  had  its  effect  in  the  popular  thought  about  our 
national  treatment  of  the  Indian,  as  well  as  of  the  negro. 

The  country,  therefore,  was  ready  to  listen  to  what 
she  had  to  say  when  Mrs.  Jackson  began  to  speak 
in  clear,  womanly  tones,  yet  insistently,  forcefully,  and 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  11 

relentlessly.  Her  mind  was  keenly  logical;  she  was 
an  indefatigable  and  tireless  worker;  she  saw  what 
the  people  ought  to  know,  and  her  literary  gift  enabled 
her  to  so  set  things  forth  that  she  had  the  open  sesame 
to  many  powerful  and  influential  papers.  Her  en 
thusiasm  was  unbounded,  and  she  compelled  atten 
tion,  by  the  seriousness  of  her  charges,  the  logical 
ability  with  which  she  prepared  them,  and  the  per 
sistence  with  which  she  pressed  them.  Evaded  on  a 
point,  -she  brought  the  evader's  attention  to  it  from 
another  standpoint.  She  compelled  a  complete  reve 
lation  of  the  hands  of  the  officials;  they  shuffled  and 
quibbled,  shirked  and  tried  to  elude,  but,  with  a 
power  no  one  ever  dreamed  her  to  possess,  she  led  them 
on  to  unmask  their  batteries,  disclose  their  secret  pol 
icies,  and  either  defend  or  abandon  them.  Her  con 
troversy  with  Carl  Schurz  is  as  interesting  as  to  listen 
to  the  combat  between  an  able  lawyer  and  an  equally 
able  witness;  and  when  she  had  forced  him  clearly  to 
declare  his  attitude,  she  did  not  hesitate,  with  equal 
clearness,  either  to  condemn  or  have  it  condemned  by 
the  leaders  of  the  New  York  press. 

Here,  then,  is  the  woman,  who,  in  1882,  came  to 
Southern  California  to  study  on  the  ground  itself  the 
Franciscan  Missions  and  the  Indians  for  whom  they 
had  been  founded.  Her  careful  researches  made  in 
the  Astor  Library,  New  York,  in  1880,  had  informed 
her  of  some  of  the  wrongs  perpetrated  upon  them, 
and  with  a  heart  fired  by  the  constant  injustices  done 
to  Indians  generally,  who  were  denied  by  "  the  powers 


12    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

that  be  "  any  standing  in  Court,  and  were  therefore 
at  the  mercy  of  all  the  hangers-on  and  politician- 
vultures  who  sought  to  fatten  on  their  very  flesh  and 
blood,  she  was  ready  to  take  up  their  case  just  as  soon 
as  its  urgency  was  made  clear  to  her. 

The  Century  Magazine  had  given  her  a  commission 
to  write  a  series  of  articles,  —  what,  they  hardly  knew, 
save  that  they  were  to  be  on  the  Missions  and  the 
Indians  of  California,  and  with  characteristic  energy 
she  began  to  go  right  to  the  heart  of  the  subject. 

She  secured  letters  to  the  Catholic  bishop  and 
priests  who  might  be  able  to  help  her;  she  made  friends 
with  old  Spanish  families  and  sought  their  aid;  she 
visited  the  Missions  themselves,  and  in  the  spell  of 
their  presence  sought  to  live  again  in  the  time  of  their 
greatest  activities.  She  consulted  original  records 
and  gathered  a  vast  fund  of  information,  which  she 
transmitted  into  delightfully  interesting  literature  in 
her  Century  articles.  First  she  wrote  about  Junipero 
Serra  and  the  Missions  he  and  his  successors  founded 
and  conducted.  Then  she  took  up  the  existent  con 
ditions  of  the  Mission  Indians. 

What  she  then  saw  led  her  to  resolve  to  attempt 
to  move  the  government  to  do  something,  honestly 
and  really,  not  by  mere  resolutions  and  reports  and 
red  tape  and  verbal  flimflam,  but  by  action,  to  preserve 
to  these  poor  creatures  some  portion  of  the  homes  that 
were  "  legally  "  being  wrested  from  them. 

Accordingly,  on  July  7,  1882,  she  was  instructed 
by  the  Indian  Department,  "  to  visit  the  Mission 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  13 

Indians  of  California,  and  ascertain  the  location  and 
condition  of  the  various  bands;  whether  suitable 
land  in  their  vicinity,  belonging  to  the  public  domain, 
could  be  made  available  as  a  permanent  home  for 
such  of  those  Indians  as  were  not  established  upon 
reservations,  and  what,  if  any,  lands  should  be  pur 
chased  for  their  use." 

She  had  already  visited  Temecula,  Pachanga,  Pala, 
Cahuilla,  Saboba,  Potrero,  Rincon,  and  Pauma,  as 
well  as  all  the  Indians'  homes  that  she  could  find  near 
the  old  Franciscan  Missions,  so  that  she  had  a  fairly 
good  idea  as  to  what  she  wished  to  do. 

The  following  letter  to  the  Commissioner  of  Indian 
Affairs  shows  how  definitely  she  had  outlined  in  her 
own  mind  the  work  she  wished  to  perform: 

"  To  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs: 

"  Dear  Sir:  I  thank  you  for  the  expressions  of  con 
fidence  in  your  letter  of  the .  I  hope  the  results 

of  my  work  may  not  disappoint  you.  I  do  not  under 
take  the  mission  without  misgivings;  but  I  trust  that 
my  earnest  intent  in  the  matter  will  stand  me  instead 
of  knowledge,  and  familiarity  with  the  region  will  be 
an  invaluable  assistance. 

"  Since  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  I  have  given  the 
subject  much  thought,  and  will  now  outline  to  you 
what  I  understand  to  be  the  scope  and  intent  of  our 
investigations : 

"  i.  To  ascertain  the  present  number  of  Mission 
Indians,  where  they  are  living,  and  how. 


14    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"2.  What,  if  any,  Government  lands  remain  in 
Southern  California  which  would  be  available  for 
homes  for  them. 

"3.  If  there  is  no  longer  left  enough  Government 
land  fit  for  the  purpose,  which  I  strongly  suspect,  what 
land  or  lands  can  be  bought,  and  at  what  prices? 

"  4.  What  the  Indians'  own  feelings  are  in  regard 
to  being  moved  onto  reservations. 

"  So  far  as  I  can  judge  from  what  I  saw  and  heard 
last  winter,  I  believe  that  those  Indians  now  living 
in  villages  would  almost  rather  die  than  be  removed. 
Yet,  in  many  instances,  the  lands  on  which  the  vil 
lages  stood  have  been  already  patented  to  white  men, 
and  I  understand  that,  in  such  cases,  there  is  no  pos 
sible  redress  for  the  Indians. 

"  Again,  I  am  entirely  sure  that,  to  propose  to  those 
self-supporting  farmers  that  they  should  be  sub 
jected  to  the  ordinary  reservation  laws  and  restric 
tions,  would  be  not  only  futile,  but  insulting.  There 
is  no  more  right  or  reason  in  an  Indian  agent,  with 
the  Indian  agent's  usual  authority,  being  set  over  them, 
than  there  would  be  in  attempting  to  bring  the  white 
farmers  in  Anaheim  or  Riverside  under  such  authority. 

"  If  this  statement  of  what  we  are  to  do  meets  your 
views,  will  you  kindly  have  it  put  into  shape  in  form 
of  a  letter  of  specific  instructions,  such  a  letter  as  will 
give  me  full  authorization  under  all  circumstances, 
both  with  the  Indians  and  at  the  land-offices  of  the 
different  counties?  There  should  be  also  a  separate 
letter,  authorizing  Mr.  Kinney  joining  me  in  the  work, 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  15 

/ 

and  guaranteeing  his  expenses.  One  item  of  expense 
has  occurred  to  me  since  my  letter  to  Mr.  Teller,  and 
that  is  of  an  interpreter.  In  visiting  the  Indian  vil 
lages  we  should  be  obliged  to  take  an  interpreter  with 
us.  This  should  be  provided  for.  My  own  expenses 
I  will  rate,  as  I  told  Mr.  Teller,  at  twelve  hundred 
dollars.  This  will  cover  my  going  out  and  returning. 
If  it  takes  longer  and  costs  more,  I  will  defray  the 
remainder  myself. 

"  I  would  like  these  letters  in  duplicate,  to  guard 
against  accidents." 

,  The  Indian  Commissioner  accordingly  authorized 
Mr.  Abbott  Kinney  to  assist  in  the  work,  and  the  final 
arid  full  instructions  were  issued  in  letters  dated 
November  28,  1882,  and  January  12,  1883. 

In  April,  1883  the  start  was  made  from  Anaheim. 
The  party  comprised  Mrs.  Jackson,  Mr.  Kinney,  Mr. 
Henry  Sandham,  the  artist,  of  Boston,  and  they  were 
driven  in  a  double-seated  two-horse  carriage  by  N.  H. 
Mitchell,  then  the  proprietor  of  the  Planter's  Hotel 
in  Anaheim,  and  afterwards  of  Hotel  Mitchell  in 
Pasadena.  The  tour  occupied  five  weeks. 

The  report  was  written  and  dated  from  Colorado 
Springs,  Colorado,  July  13,  1883,  and  is  published  in 
full  as  an  appendix  in  later  editions  of  the  Century 
of  Dishonor. 

This  book  was  written  in  1880.  Bishop  Whipple, 
in  November  of  that  year,  had  written  the  Preface, 
and  President  Seelye,  of  Amherst  College,  Amherst, 


1 6    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Mass,  (her  natal  home),  in  December,  the  Introduction. 
The  book  had  been  published  and  a  small  number  sold. 
It  was  a  startling  arraignment  of  the  United  States 
for  its  dealings  towards  its  helpless  wards.  It  dealt, 
not  with  woman's  sentiment,  but  with  facts  and  fig 
ures.  It  abounded  with  quotations  from  government 
reports.  Its  title  reveals  its  purport  and  the  trend  of 
its  sympathy.  The  comment  on  the  awful  facts  was 
restrained  and  careful.  There  were  no  rhetorical 
outbursts.  It  was  a  wonderful  book  that  should  have 
caused  a  tremendous  arousing  of  the  national 
conscience  and  as  a  consequence  a  political  upheaval. 
Instead,  it  scarcely  caused  a  ripple  on  the  surface  of 
the  great  deep  it  was  hoped  it  might  move  to  its  bed. 

It  was  possibly  Mrs.  Jackson's  first  experience  with 
the  "  national  conscience."  She  could  not  understand 
it.  She  brooded  and  pondered  over  it,  and  while  in 
this  state  of  wonderment  at  the  national  apathy  came 
to  Southern  California. 

The  Century  series  of  articles  was  doubtless  another 
effort  at  the  arousing  of  the  American  public,  but 
she  felt  unconsciously  their  inadequacy.  More  must 
be  done.  Then,  possibly,  like  an  inspiration,  the  idea 
of  the  novel  entered  her  mind.  Here,  here,  was  the 
solution.  What  Uncle*  Tom's  Cabin  had  been  to  the 
cause  of  slavery,  her  novel  should  be  to  the  cause  of 
the  Indians.  All  unite  in  saying  that  when  once  this 
thought  had  entered  her  mind,  she  was  totally  ab 
sorbed  by  it.  Every  energy  was  bent  towards  its  ac 
complishment.  All  her  fervor,  literary  ability,  powers 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  17 

of  research,  observation  and  enthusiasm  were  har 
nessed  in  the  one  cause.  Her  researches  had  given  her 
a  wonderful  familiarity  with  all  the  details,  so  pictur 
esque,  so  unusual,  so  pathetic,  so  romantic,  for  the 
details  of  the  book,  and  her  life  of  travel  and  writing 
about  what  she  had  seen  rendered  her  peculiarly  fitted 
to  set  forth  the  exquisite  beauty  arid  grandeur  of 
Southern  California  as  the  background  of  her  story. 
Then,  too,  so  many  real  incidents  were  ready  to  her 
hand  to  fit  into  the  novel.  These  she  gathered  from 
every  available  source.  Don  Antonio  Coronel  and  his 
noble  wife  opened  up  the  rich  treasure-house  of  their 
well-stored  minds,  and  revealed  the  deep  and  loving 
sympathies  of  their  profound  natures  and  poured  forth 
facts  and  suggestions  innumerable. 

From  Miss  Sheriff,  who  had  for  years  been  a  teacher 
at  vSaboba,  Mrs.  Jackson  heard  the  story  of  the  slaying 
of  the  Indian,  Juan  Diego,  in  the  mountains  near  by, 
by  Sam  Temple,  who  accused  him  of  stealing  his  horse. 
Mrs.  Sheriff,  now  Mrs.  Fowler,  still  lives  at  San  Jacinto. 
From  Mrs.  Jordan,  who  still  lives  at  Old  San  Jacinto, 
she  heard  the  corroboration  of  the  story,  learned  the  ab 
solute  facts  of  Juan  Diego's  attacks  of  "loco,"  the  taking 
of  Temple's  horse,  and  gained  the  character  of  Aunt.  Ri. 

From  Juan  Diego's  wife,  whose  actual  name  is 
Ramona  Lubo,  she  heard  how  Temple  came  and  shot 
down  her  husband  at  close  range  as  he  came  out  of 
their  little  cabin,  and  of  Ratnona's  flight  to  Cahuilla. 

From  Don  Antonio  and  certain  Los  Angeles  lawyers 
who  were  interested  in  the  Indians,  as  well  as  from 


1 8    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  government  records  and  the  lips  of  the  Indians 
themselves,  she  heard  of  the  evictions  at  Temecula 
and  San  Pasquale. 

With  her  literary  friends,  chiefly  Mrs.  Jeanne  C. 
Carr,  of  Pasadena,  she  consulted  freely  about  the 
story,  and  no  one  will  ever  be  able  to  estimate  the 
influence  Mrs.  Carr's  clear  mind,  artistic  conceptions, 
and  deep  loving  nature,  fully  given  over  to  the  In 
dians,  exercised  upon  the  growing  novel. 

All  that  was  now  needed  was  the  framework,  the 
skeleton  of  the  story,  the  plot.  She  had  studied  the 
Missions,  the  old  Spanish  days,  the  Indians  in  their 
humble  homes,  Southern  California  in  general,  as  no 
other  person  had  ever  done. 

It  was  what  she  saw  and  heard  and  felt  while  visit 
ing  the  Indians  in  person  that  burned  the  story  of  their 
wrongs  so  deeply  into  her  heart  that  she  was  compelled 
to  become  their  apostle,  their  defender,  the  one  to  fling 
dofn  the  gauntlet  on  their  behalf.  The  following 
letter,  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coronel,  more  clearly  than  any 
ottier  statement  tells  how  the  thought  of  the  novel 
grew  in  her  heart.  It  shows  her  fondness  for  works 
of  Indian  art  and  relics  pertaining  to  their  life.  It 
tells  a  little  of  how  the  report  to  the  government 
was  received,  and,  better  than  all,  how  she  proceeded 
to  gather  the  necessary  material  for  the  story, 

"COLORADO  SPRINGS,  Nov.  8,  1883. 

"My  Dear  Friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Coronel:  I  send 
you  herewith  the  very  bad  picture  of  myself,  which  I 


g 

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1st 

II 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  19 

think  you  will  wish  you  had  never  seen.     If  you  do, 
you  are  quite  at  liberty  to  burn  it  up. 

"  I  had  forgotten  that  I  paid  you  the  five  dollars 
for  the  work  done  by  the  Indian  woman.  Keep  it,  if 
you  please;  there  may  be  something  to  come  from 
Father  Ubach  to  pay  expressage  on,  or  there  may  be  a 
box  to  be  made  to  hold  all  my  stone  mortars,  etc., 
which  Mr.  Bliss  is  going  to  get  for  me  one  of  these  years. 
It  may  be  well  for  you  to  have  a  little  money  of  mine 
on  hand  to  meet  these  possible  charges.  I  have  asked 
Father  Ubach  to  send  to  me  to  your  care  the  old 
looking-glass  frame  which  I  forgot  to  put  into  the  box 
he  sent  here;  it  was  really  one  of  the  things  I  cared 
most  for  of  all  the  relics  promised  me,  and  I  was  ex 
ceedingly  sorry  to  forget  it.  He,  however,  did  much 
to  atone  for  this  by  putting  into  the  box  a  piece  of  one 
of  the  old  olive  trees  from  the  San  Diego  Mission.  I 
shall  present  part  of  it  to  Archbishop  Corrigan.  I 
think  he  will  value  a  piece  of  one  of  the  fruit  trees 
planted  by  Father  Junipero.  I  am  sure  you  will  have 
rejoiced  at  the  removal  of  Law  son  from  the  agency  of 
the  Mission  Indians.  I  hope  the  new  man  will  prove 
better;  he  hardly  can  prove  worse.  I  wish  we  could 
have  selected  the  new  agent  ourselves;  but  it  was  a 
political  appointment,  of  which  we  knew  nothing  until 
it  was  all  settled.  Our  report  has  been  favorably 
received,  and  its  recommendations  will  be  incorporated 
in  a  bill  before  Congress  this  winter.  I  hope  the  bill 
will  pass.  But  I  know  too  much  of  Washington  to  be 
sanguine.  However,  if  we  had  accomplished  nothing 


20    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

more  than  the  securing  the  appointment  of  Brunson 
&  Wells,  Los  Angeles,  as  United  States  attorneys,  to 
protect  the  Indians'  rights  to  lands,  that  would  be 
matter  of  gratitude.  I  suppose  you  have  heard  of 
that  appointment.  I  hope  through  their  means  to 
save  the  Saboba  village,  San  Jacinto,  from  being 
turned  out  of  their  home.  Now,  I  am  as  usual  asking 
help.  I  will  tell  you  what  my  next  work  for  the  In 
dians  is  to  be. 

"  I  am  going  to  write  a  novel,  in  which  will  be  set  forth 
some  Indian  experiences  in  a  way  to  move  people's 
hearts.  People  will  read  a  novel  when  they  will  not 
read  serious  books.  The  scenes  of  the  novel  will  be 
in  Southern  California,  and  I  shall  introduce  enough  of 
Mexicans  and  Americans  to  give  it  variety.  The  thing 
I  want  most,  in  the  way  of  help,  from  you,  is  this :  I 
would  like  an  account,  written  in  as  much  detail  as  you 
remember  of  the  time  when  you,  dear  Mr.  Coronel, 
went  to  Temecula  and  marked  off  the  boundaries  of 
the  Indians'  land  there.  How  many  Indians  were 
living  there  then?  What  crops  had  they?  Had  they  a 
chapel?  etc.  Was  Pablo  Assis,  their  chief,  alive? 
I  would  like  to  know  his  whole  history,  life,  death,  and  ' 
all,  minutely.  The  Temecula  ejectment  will  be  one 
of  the  episodes  in  my  story,  and  any  and  every  detail 
in  connection  with  it  will  be  of  value  to  me.  I  shall 
also  use  the  *  San  Pasquale  Pueblo  History,'  and  I 
have  written  to  Father  Ubach  and  to  Mr.  Morse,  of 
San  Diego,  for  their  reminiscences.  You  and  they  are 
the  only  persons  to  whom  I  have  spoken  of  my 


WHY  RAMONA  WAS  WRITTEN  21 

purpose  of  writing  the  novel,  and  I  do  not  wish  anything 
said  about  it.  I  shall  keep  it  a  secret  until  the  book 
is  about  done. 

"  I  hope  very  much  that  I  can  succeed  in  writ 
ing  a  story  which  will  help  to  increase  the  interest 
already  so  much  aroused  at  the  East  in  the  Indian 
question. 

"  If  you  think  of  any  romantic  incidents,  either 
Mexican  or  Indian,  which  you  think  would  work  in 
well  into  a  story  of  Southern  California  life,  please 
write  them  out  for  me.  I  wish  I  had  had  this  plan  in 
my  mind  last  year  when  I  was  in  Los  Angeles.  I 
would  have  taken  notes  of  many  interesting  things 
you  told  me.  But  it  is  only  recently,  since  writing  out 
for  our  report  the  full  accounts  of  the  different  bands  of 
Indians  there,  that  I  have  felt  that  I  dared  undertake 
the  writing  of  a  long  story. 

"  I  am  going  to  New  York  in  a  few  days,  and  shall 
be  busily  at  work  there  all  winter  on  my  story.  My 
address  will  be,  '  The  Berkeley,'  corner  Fifth  Avenue 
and  Ninth  Street. 

"  I  hope  you  are  all  well,  and  enjoying  the  same 
sunshine  as  last  year.  Mr.  Jackson  is  well,  and  would 
send  his  regards  if  he  were  at  home. 

"  Yours,  always  cordially, 

JACKSON." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   FACTS    AND   FICTIONS   OF   RAMONA 


are  those  in  Ramonaland  who  will  tell  you 
•*-  that  Ramona  is  fiction  from  beginning  to  end. 
They  will  go  further.  They  will  denounce  the  story  as 
untrue  to  fact,  in  that  it  gives  too  highly  colored  descrip 
tions  of  the  scenery  and  too  exalted  a  conception  of 
the  Indians.  With  these  critics  I  take  decided  issue. 
As  I  have  shown  in  the  chapter,  "A  Climatic  Wonder 
land,"  it  is  not  possible  for  any  one  to  over-color  the 
descriptions  of  the  natural  scenic  conditions.  And  as 
for  the  Indians,  criticism  of  them  is  more  often  based 
upon  imperfect  than  adequate  knowledge. 

Leaving  these  two  great  points  of  Ramona  out  of  the 
question,  however,  there  are  many  facts  of  detail, 
which  the  gifted  author  most  ingeniously  wove  into 
her  story.  Let  us,  in  this  chapter,  take  a  survey  of 
these  facts,  and  see  how  they  have  been  applied. 

The  description  of  life  in  an  old  time  California 
ranch-house  given  in  the  first  chapter  is  the  presenta 
tion  of  an  eye  witness.  While  the  scene  is  laid  at  Camu- 
los,  it  is  well  known  that  Mrs.  Jackson  was  there  only 
two  hours,  while  she  visited  for  days  at  a  time  at  Gua- 
jome,  the  home  of  Lieutenant  Cave  J.  Couts,  where 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      23 

there  was  just  such  a  retinue  of  Indians  and  Mexicans 
as  she  so  vividly  pictures.  Mrs.  Couts's  son,  Cave, 
who  now  owns  Guajome,  repeats  the  story,  and  thus 
becomes  authority  for  it,  that  when  his  father  was  a 
young  dashing  lieutenant  in  the  First  Dragoons,  and 
his  regiment  was  ordered  to  California  from  Chihuahua, 
Mexico,  on  September  1, 1848,  he  little  dreamed  that 
his  fate  awaited  him  in  the  person  of  a  young  and 
beautiful  Spanish  lady  in  the  land  to  which  he  rode. 
On  the  first  of  April,  1849,  he  arrived  at  San  Luis  Rey. 
One  day  a  party  of  San  Diegans  came  to  visit  the  old 
Mission,  and  among  others  was  Miss  Bandini,  the 
charming,  bright,  vivacious  daughter  of  Don  Juan 
Bandini,  one  of  the  best  known  dons  of  Alta  California. 
As  the  girl  and  her  friends  wandered  about  the  building, 
they  climbed  upon  the  parapet  over  the  corridors, 
and,  gaily  chatting  and  laughing,  enjoyed  themselves 
as  young  people  will,  until,  horror  of  horrors,  Miss 
Bandini  slipped  and  fell  headlong  to  the  ground  below. 
Death  or  a  severe  injury  seemed  inevitable,  but  the 
young  lieutenant,  observant  of  the  maid,  the  glances 
of  whose  bright  eyes  had  already  penetrated  his  heart, 
dashed  forward  and  caught  her,  thus  averting  the 
catastrophe.  It  was  a  double  fall,  howrever,  for  both 
of  them,  for  they  then  and  there  fell  mutually  in  love, 
and,  despite  all  opposition,  married.  Guajome  was 
built  as  their  home,  and  there  Mrs.  Jackson  visited 
Mrs.  Couts  and  saw  and  learned  much  of  the  real  life  of 
a  California  ranch -house. 

Cave  also  tells  an  interesting  story  that,  one  day, 


24    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

he  had  gone  out  to  see  how  a  band  of  Indians,  who 
lived  on  and  were  dependents  of  the  ranch,  had  done 
some  work  he  had  allotted  to  them.  They  had  been 
both  indifferent  and  lazy,  and  he  was  angry  with  them. 
Raising  his  voice  he  forcefully  and  roundly  abused 
them  for  their  laziness,  and  used  language  with  which 
they  were  doubtless  familiar  enough,  but  which,  to  a 
lady  of  refined  temperament,  would  sound  coarse, 
vulgar,  and  brutal.  Mrs.  Jackson  happened  at  that 
very  moment  to  be  coming  towards  the  Indians  unper- 
ceived  by  Cave,  and  she  heard  much  or  all  of  his  abus 
ive  tirade.  Her  anger  and  indignation  were  as  keen 
as  his,  but  he  was  the  object  of  them.  Roundly  she 
took  him  to  task  for  swearing  at  the  willing  and  docile 
Indians.  Firmly  and  decidedly  Cave  defended  him 
self,  and  the  result  was  as  near  to  a  quarrel  as  a  lady 
and  gentleman  can  come.  Mrs.  Jackson  recited  the 
whole  circumstances  to  Mrs.  Couts  on  her  return  to 
the  ranch,  and  Cave  grimly  confesses  that  his  mother 
sided  with  her  guest,  but,  nevertheless,  he  sticks  to  it 
that  the  Indians  were  lazy  and  careless  and  deserved 
all  the  "  cussing  "  he  gave  them  on  that  memorable 
occasion. 

Several  other  ranches  in  the  neighborhood  were 
visited  by  Mrs.  Jackson  at  this  time,  one  in  particular 
being  historic  and  famous.  Near  to  Guajome  was  the 
Santa  Margarita,  which,  in  its  palmy  days,  comprised 
over  a  quarter  of  a  million  acres.  There  she  saw  sheep 
shearing  by  the  Indians  on  a  large  scale,  as  described  in 
the  first  chapters  of  Ramona. 


The  Ifancho  Camuios  and  the  Santa  Clara  Valle}/ 

Page  25 


The  icashina place -under  the  old  Willoicsat  Guajome,  Southern  California 

Page  26 


The  altar  at  Camulos,  showing  the  torn  altar  cloth 

Page  33 


The  torn  altar  cloth  at  Carmtlos,  from  which  Mrs.  Jackson  made  an 
tnterestino  part  of  her  story 

Page  33 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      25 

Her  pictures  of  Camulos  have  already  been  com 
mented  upon.  They  are  historic.  Their  accuracy 
is  remarkable.  Indeed  Chapter  II  contains  much 
valuable  information,  and  more  valuable  suggestion. 
The  criticisms  on  the  United  States  Land  Commission 
which,  "  after  the  surrender  of  California,  undertook 
to  sift  and  adjust  Mexican  land  titles  "  seem  to  be  just. 
There  is  no  question  whatever  but  that,  in  many  in 
stances,  truthful  and  worthy  families  were  ousted 
from  their  legal  possession  of  lands,  and  that,  in  other 
cases,  land  grabbers  and  thieves  of  the  worst  type  were 
given  possession  where  they  had  no  legal  or  moral 
claim. 

It  is  in  her  remarkable  use  of  such  facts  as  these  as 
motives  in  the  minds  of  her  characters  that  the  genius 
of  Mrs.  Jackson  displayed  itself,  as  well  as  in  her  keen 
observation  of  other  facts  which  she  used  in  the  same 
manner.  For  instance,  it  is  true  that  the  Santa  Clara 
Valley  road  passes  at  the  back  of  the  Camulos  ranch- 
house  instead  of  the  front,  and  that  on  the  hills  near-by 
are  crosses.  See  how  these  are  used  in  Chapter  II 
to  bring  out  the  indignation  of  the  Senora  Moreno 
towards  the  hated  Americans.  The  house  "  turned 
its  back  on  them.  She  would  like  always  to  be  able 
to  do  the  same  herself."  As  for  the  crosses,  how  they 
are  made  to  reveal  character:  "  That  the  heretics  (the 
Americans)  may  know,  when  they  go  by,  that  they  are 
on  the  estate  of  a  good  Catholic  and  that  the  faithful 
may  be  reminded  to  pray." 

Here  are  fact  and  fiction, —  fact  in  the  statement 


26    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

as  to  what  exists;  fiction  in  the  attribution  of  motive  in 
regard  to  the  existence  of  the  fact. 

The  Indian  bowls,  described  in  Chapter  1 1,  were  made 
of  the  soapstone  (steatite)  or  serpentine,  found  on 
Santa  Catalina  Island.  The  native  quarry  is  still  to  be 
seen  as  left  by  the  aborigines.  Unfinished  vessels, 
partially  quarried  by  rude  flint  tools,  remain  in  the  solid 
rock.  As  Charles  Frederick  Holder  says:  "  Here  is 
the  old  workshop  under  the  blue  sky,  with  its  unfinished 
work,  its  broken  chips  and  pieces  strewn  about,  the 
flint  tools  of  the  workmen  here  and  there,  telling  a 
fascinating  story  of  the  possibilities  of  the  human 
savage  when  thrown  entirely  upon  the  natural  resources 
of  a  land  where  the  only  metals  are  gold  and  silver, 
and  where  —  in  place  of  iron  —  shell,  stone,  and  wood 
were  used  for  all  purposes." 

The  trellis  work  covering  the  garden  walk  and  the 
willow  trees  at  the  washing  place  are  to  be  found  both 
at  Camulos  and  Guajome,  as,  doubtless,  at  a  score  of 
old  time  ranch-houses  in  Southern  California. 

The  "  carved  oaken  chairs  and  benches  "  (Chapters 
II  and  XIX)  are  a  slight  stretch  of  the  imagination, 
or,  at  least,  the  reader  most  probably  will  deceive 
himself  into  imagining  them  more  beautiful  and  elab 
orate  than  any  that  I  have  ever  found  at  either  Missions 
or  ranch-houses.  By  the  catchword  of  a  clever  com 
mercial  advertiser,  the  American  people  have  been 
led  to  imagine  that  the  "  Missions  "  originated  a  dis 
tinctive  style  of  furniture.  I  have  photographed  every 
piece  of  old  furniture  now  known  to  exist  in  the  whole 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      27 

chain  of  Missions  from  San  Diego  to  Sonoma,  and  think 
I  know  every  representative  piece.  The  engraving  show 
ing  a  mission  chair  is  as  good  as  any,  except  pieces  that 
are  avowedly  Oriental  or  European.  They  are  all  crude 
and  solid,  and  such  carvings  as  they  bear  are  rude  and  of 
slight  artistic  merit.  Hence  it  will  be  seen  that  the  term 
"Mission,  "as  applied  to  modern  furniture,  is  a  misnomer. 
It  should  be  called  "  Craftsman,"  after  its  original  de 
signer  and  inventor,  Gustav  Stickley,  the  founder  and 
editor  of  that  useful  magazine  of  democratic  American 
art,  The  Craftsman. 

In  Chapter  II  the  occupation  of  San  Luis  Rey  Mis 
sion  by  United  States  troops  is  referred  to.  This  is 
an  historic  fact.  In  1847  the  Mormon  Battalion, — 
a  branch  of  Kearny's  Army  of  the  West  —  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  St.  George  Cooke,  was  estab 
lished  there  for  two  months,  and  later  on  a  re-enlisted 
company  occupied  it  for  a  short  time. 

The  removal  of  the  statues,  etc.,  by  the  faithful  sac 
ristan  here  applies  to  the  house  at  Guajome,  though 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  in  all  of  the  pillaged 
Missions  some  faithful  soul  was  found  who  did  the 
same  thing.  The  dilapidation  of  the  figures  is  true  to 
fact.  Many  are  to  be  found  at  the  various  Missions 
that  vividly  reveal  the  rough  handling  they  have 
suffered.  Others  have  been  restored.  Here  again 
fact  and  fiction  are  skilfully  blended,  —  fact  as  to  the 
shabby  figures  of  the  saints,  fiction  as  to  the  Sefiora 
Moreno's  feelings  about  them:  "  That  one  had  lost  an 
eye,  another  an  arm,  that  the  once  brilliant  colors  of 


28    THROUGH  RAMGNA'S  COUNTRY 

the  drapery  were  now  faded  and  shabby,  only  enhanced 
the  tender  reverence  with  which  the  Senora  knelt 
before  them,  her  eyes  filling  with  indignant  tears  at 
the  thought  of  the  heretic  hands  which  had  wrought 
such  defilement." 

The  jealousy  that  existed  between  the  Franciscans 
and  the  Catalan  priests  (see  Chapter  II)  is  no  fiction, 
and  the  possibility  of  an  order  being  issued  forbidding 
the  monks  going  to  and  fro  in  California  became  an 
actual  fact.  The  reason  is  clear  to  those  familiar  with 
this  phase  of  California  history.  The  Franciscans  were 
mainly  devout  adherents  to  the  throne  of  Spain.  When 
Mexico  threw  off  her  allegiance  to  Spain,  and  California 
became  a  province  of  Mexico,  the  Franciscan  priests, 
(as  well  as  all  others),  were  required  to  swear  allegiance 
to  the  new  powers.  Few  of  them  did  so.  Some  were 
banished  and  forcefully  removed.  Others  were 
allowed  to  remain  on  sufferance,  though  the  order 
of  banishment  might  at  any  time  have  been  enforced, 
and,  now  and  again,  was  threatened,  as  Mrs.  Jackson 
states. 

Then,  too,  it  should  be  noted  that  most  of  the  large 
California  ranch-houses  belonging  to  devout  Catholics 
had  their  own  private  chapels,  where  the  traveling 
priests  held  services  as  often  as  they  came.  This 
devotion  to  Mother  Church  is  too  apt  to  be  overlooked 
or  forgotten,  and  in  this  money-loving  and  materialistic 
age  it  is  well  to  consider  the  habits  of  an  age  that  had 
much  good  in  it  we  could  wish  we  had  not  lost. 

The  description  of  the  Senora's  wedding  (Chapter  II) 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      29 

is  a  truthful  portrayal  of  such  an  event,  and  the  beauti 
ful  ceremony  at  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission  was  seen  by 
many,  a  few  of  whom  are  still  living.  What  a  pretty 
scene,  and  impressive,  when,  "  on  the  third  day,  still 
in  their  wedding  attire,  and  bearing  lighted  candles  in 
their  hands,  they  walked  with  the  monks  in  a  proces 
sion,  round  and  round  the  new  tower,  the  monks 
chanting,  and  sprinkling  incense  and  holy  water  on  its 
walls,  the  ceremony  seeming  to  all  devout  beholders 
to  give  a  blessed  consecration  to  the  union  of  the  young 
pair,  as  well  as  to  the  newly  completed  tower." 

The  procession  at  San  Luis  Obispo,  described  in  this 
chapter,  is  said  actually  to  have  occurred.  Padre  Luis 
Antonio  Martinez  was  one  of  the  most  beloved  and 
well  known  of  the  Franciscans.  For  thirty- two  years 
he  labored  at  San  Luis  Obispo,  commencing  his  service 
in  1798,  and  the  cloth  of  his  Indian  looms,  the  flour 
from  his  Indian  mills,  and  the  mules  and  horses  bred 
by  his  Indian  vaqueros  were  the  best  in  'the  territory. 
Several  of  the  early  American  traders  tell  of  their 
dealings  with  him,  and  always  speak  highly  of  his 
jolly  good  nature,  and  his  generosity  in  trade.  He 
was  undoubtedly  a  bluff,  hearty,  outspoken  man,  free 
in  his  criticisms  of  men  and  affairs,  and  this  led  to  his 
banishment.  In  my  In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions 
I  state  that  this  was  for  smuggling.  While  this  was 
one  of  the  charges  brought  against  him,  further  study 
has  shown  that  he  was  tried  before  a  military  court  on 
various  charges,  mainly  bearing  upon  his  fidelity  to 
the  Spanish  throne,  and  on  his  open  avowal  that  he 


jo    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

was  still  faithful,  and  that  he  had  supplied  food  to  the 
Spanish  soldiers  when  they  demanded  it  of  him,  he  was 
condemned  to  exile,  placed  on  board  an  English  vessel, 
sent  to  Callao  and  finally  returned  to  Spain. 

The  description  of  the  padre's  procession  of  poultry 
is  characteristic  of  the  man,  and  is  one  of  the  finest 
bits  of  genre  in  words  in  Californian  (or  any  other) 
literature. 

The  distress  and  activity  of  the  Senora  Moreno 
(Chapter  II)  "  during  the  height  of  the  despoiling  and 
plundering  of  the  Missions,  under  the  Secularization 
Act,"  were  very  real  facts  in  several  lives.  Protestants 
as  a  rule  are  not  aware  of  the  deep  devotion  felt  for 
their  church  by  Catholic  women,  and  to  many,  in 
those  days,  it  seemed  as  if  death  would  be  preferable 
to  seeing  the  ruin  of  the  Missions  they  had  learned  to 
love  so  well. 

In  Chapter  III  the  story  of  Ramona's  birth  is  related 
and  how  she  came  into  the  Senora's  hand,  and  I  have 
shown  in  the  chapter  "Was  there  a  real  Ramona  "  the 
original  of  Angus  Phail.  San  Gabriel  is  described  in 
its  own  chapter,  as  is  also  the  subject  of  the  Jewels. 

The  statement  that  the  fictitious  Ramona  was  sent 
to  the  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart  in  Los  Angeles, 
has  led  to  the  distribution  of  a  photograph  of  the  crude 
wooden  building  used  in  the  early  days  as  the  home 
of  this  Convent  with  a  legend  to  the  effect  that  this  is 
the  "  School  attended  by  Ramona  in  Los  Angeles." 
In  Chapter  VIII  it  is  said  she  had  one  year  at  school 
with  the  nuns,  and  the  sweet  simplicity  of  her  life  is 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA     31 

attributed  largely  to  the  early  teachings  that  she  had 
received  from  the  lips  of  these  devoted  women.  After 
the  Sefiora  had  made  the  discovery,  to  her  so  terrrible, 
that  Ramona  and  Alessandro  loved  each  other,  she 
thought  of  nothing  else  at  first  than  sending  "  the 
shameless  hussy  "  to  the  nuns  for  safe  keeping  and 
further  instruction,  and  nothing  shocked  and  astounded 
her  more  during  that  heated  interview  she  had  with 
her  adopted  daughter  (Chapter  XI)  than  Ramona's 
defiance  of  her  when  she  declared  "  I  can  shut  you  up 
in  the  nunnery  to-morrow,  if  I  choose." 

The  vision  of  the  restoration  of  the  Missions  seen  by 
Father  Salvierderra  (see  Chapter  IV)  was  shared  by 
many  of  the  monks.  It  seemed  to  them  incredible 
that  the  system  they  had  labored  for  so  many  arduous 
years  to  build  up  should  be  allowed  to  crumble  to  pieces 
so  easily,  and  especially  when  the  awful  effect  of  the 
change  upon  the  Indians  was  observed.  But  things 
inexplicable  are  often  allowed  to  go  on  in  this  world, 
and  the  utter  demolition  of  the  Mission  system  was  one 
of  them. 

When  Mrs.  Jackson  makes  the  good  old  monk  reply 
to  Ramona's  loving  watchfulness  (Chapter  IV)  that  he 
should  ride  and  not  walk, — "  It  was  the  rule  of  our 
order  to  go  on  foot," — -she  refers  to  St.  Francis's  rule; 
"they  (the  friars)  shall  not  ride  unless  compelled 
through  necessity."  A  California  Franciscan  friar  thus 
comments  on  these  words,  showing  how  the  order  in 
terprets  the  rule  as  conditions  change.  "That  is  all 
St.  Francis  says  on  the  subject.  We  vow  this  rule, 


32    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

hence  it  is  a  great  obligation.  The  term  St.  Francis 
uses  in  Latin  means  riding  on  horseback.  By  implica 
tion,  because  St.  Francis  insisted  that  his  friars  should 
pass  '  through  the  world  in  humility  and  modesty '  and 
above  all,  because  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
money  and  forbade  his  sons  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
it,  the  Popes  have  declared  that  any  kind  of  conveyance 
is  forbidden  save  in  case  of  necessity.  What  degree  of 
necessity  is  required,  is  another  question.  There  is  a 
graver  necessity  required  for  horseback-riding,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  For  travelling  in  wagon,  or  cars,  or 
ship,  no  such  grave  necessity  is  demanded,  as  is  plain. 
St.  Francis  travelled  by  ship.  He  was  placed  on  mule- 
back  when  ill.  The  circumstances  must  decide  the 
matter, —  the  circumstance  of  time,  which  may  be  press 
ing,  and  at  our  time  always  is.  Father  Serra,  like  his 
brethren,  walked,  since  they  had  time;  but  Serra,  in 
illness,  travelled  from  Cape  San  Lucas  in  Lower  Cali 
fornia  to  San  Diego  on  horseback  or  muleback,  as  is 
plain,  from  Palou.  It  was  well  said  by  an  old  father 
now  dead :  '  The  first  rule  of  a  Franciscan  is  obedience, 
the  second  is  common  sense.'  Hence  the  rule  still  stands 
and  is  observed  literally  where  possible,  and  in  other 
cases  is  regarded  as  time  and  other  circumstances 
permit." 

The  habit  of  Junipero  Serra,  the  founder  of  the 
California  Missions,  is  well  known,  —  his  refusal  to 
ride,  even  when  an  animal  was  provided,  from  Vera 
Cruz  to  the  city  of  Mexico;  his  walking  with  a  dis 
eased  leg  from  La  Paz  to  San  Diego  up  the  long  weary 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      33 

miles  of  the  peninsula,  and  his  habit  of  walking,  even  up 
to  the  day  of  his  death. 

The  description  of  the  wild  mustard  (Chapter  IV)  is 
one  of  the  most  realistic,  vivid  and  beautiful  pictures 
in  Californian  literature,  and  only  those  who  saw 
Ramonaland  before  the  country  was  cut  up  into  small 
farms  and  cultivated  can  imagine  how  exquisite  a 
sight  it  was.  To  farmers  the  mustard  is  a  great  pest, 
and  they  do  their  best  to  exterminate  it,  for  it  seriously 
injures  their  grain  crops,  but  to  the  outsider,  who  sees 
it  only  from  the  esthetic  standpoint,  it  is  as  the  lilies 
of  the  field  which  surpassed  in  gorgeous  array  even 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory. 

The  pretty  custom  of  dropping  down  on  the  knees, 
referred  to  in  this  same  chapter,  is  still  observed  by 
many  devout  Mexicans  and  Indians.  The  reverence 
to  the  priest,  as  an  ambassador  of  God,  and  the  implied 
request  for  a  blessing  is  the  acknowledgment  of  a 
simple  soul  that  he  relies  upon  God  and  is  thankful 
for  all  help  that  can  be  given.  How  often  has  the 
man  and  woman  of  other  faiths  and  no  faiths  felt  an 
instinctive  desire  to  bow  or  kneel  in  the  presence  of 
certain  men  (and  women)  and  crave  a  blessing  at  their 
hands. 

In  the  strong  pictures  of  Margarita's  trouble  (Chap 
ter  IV)  over  the  torn  altar  cloth,  is  another  fine  exam 
ple  of  the  blending  of  fact  and  fiction.  The  altar  cloth 
at  Camulos  is  torn,  —  was  torn  when  Mrs.  Jackson 
saw  it  in  the  chapel.  The  photograph  herewith  reveals 
it.  But  all  the  story  about  its  having  been  torn  by  the 


34    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

dog  in  the  artichoke  patch,  owing  to  Margarita's  dis 
obedience  in  placing  it  on  the  fence  to  dry,  from  whence 
the  wind  tossed  it,  is  pure  fiction. 

And  the  artichoke  patch.  Many  people  think  the 
artichoke  a  French  importation  of  recent  date,  but  the 
Spaniards  and  Mexicans  of  almost  a  century  ago  used 
this  delicacy  for  food  in  California.  To  Mrs.  Jackson 
the  sight  of  a  patch  of  these  thistle-like  growths  would 
naturally  be  novel  and  interesting,  and  hence  she  could 
not  refuse  to  use  such  good  descriptive  material  when 
placed  in  her  hands. 

The  old  seed-vessels  of  the  artichokes  are  just  as 
beautiful  as  described  in  Chapter  IX,  and  I  have  seen 
them  used  as  wreaths  for  the  statues  of  saints  in  several 
places. 

At  more  than  one  California  ranch-house  the  same 
inconvenient  arrangement  (described  in  Chapter  IV) 
exists  as  at  Camulos,  where  the  dining-room  and 
kitchen  are  on  opposite  sides  of  the  courtyard.  In 
those  old  days,  when  land  and  Indians  to  help  were 
plentiful,  no  one  seemed  to  give  a  thought  to  either 
conservation  of  room  or  energy.  "  Convenience " 
was  a  word  not  thought  of  in  connection  with  a  house 
of  quality.  It  was  reserved  for  gringos  to  introduce  it, 
with  other  of  their  accursed  customs,  and  apply  it  to 
their  flats  and  apartment  houses  where  a  score  of 
families  herd  together  in  a  way  unthinkable  to  the  old 
time  Senors  and  Sefioras  of  Ramona's  day. 

The  beautiful  custom  of  singing  a  morning  hymn  was 
not  uncommon  in  Catholic  households  (Chapter  V) 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      35 

and  only  those  who  have  been  awakened  from  a  sound 
and  healthy  sleep  by  its  sweet  and  solemn  strains  can 
know  the  wonderful  impression  it  makes  upon  both 
mind  and  soul.  To  me  it  brought  back  the  days  of  my 
childhood  when,  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  the 
whole  family  sat  around  the  old-fashioned  English 
fireplace,  and  sang  "  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual" 
as  well  as  other  songs,  before  the  reading  of  the 
Word,  and  prayer.  We  may  have  progressed  (!!)  in 
many  and  material  things,  but  in  these  means  of 
educating  and  guarding  the  soul  I  am  free  to  con 
fess  I  am  a  reactionary  and  prefer  the  days  that  are 
gone  by. 

Some  express  surprise  that  Mrs.  Jackson  made  of 
Alessandro  a  good  singer.  It  was  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world  for  her  to  do,  for  many  Indians  — 
men,  women,  youths,  maidens  and  young  children  — 
are  fine  singers,  Miss  Natalie  Curtis,  in  her  won 
derful  Indian's  Book,  gives  a  number  of  Indian  songs, 
and  she  and  I  have  listened  a  hundred  times  to  Indian 
voices,  untutored  and  uncultured,  but  rich,  sweet, 
controlled  and  sensitive  to  a  degree.  Several  times  I 
have  been  touched  to  tears  at  hearing  the  Indians  sing 
the  songs  taught  them  or  their  parents  by  the  old 
padres,  and  none  who  have  ever  heard  the  Acoma 
Indians,  of  New  Mexico,  sing  their  native  thanksgiving 
songs  to  Those  Above  will  wonder  at  Mrs.  Jackson's 
conferring  upon  her  hero  a  rich,  penetrating  voice  of 
sweetness  and  power. 

Hence  it  was  nothing  out  of  place  to  make  Alessandro 


36    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

a  good  singer,  with  so  sweet  and  restful  a  voice  that  he 
soothed  Felipe  during  his  illness  (Chapter  VI) . 

At  most  of  the  Missions  Indian  choirs  were  organized 
and  it  was  found  that  men,  women,  and  children 
speedily  learned  the  European  methods  of  singing. 
At  San  Juan  Bautista  and  several  other  places,  orches 
tras,  with  violins,  violas,  etc.,  were  organized,  and  the 
Indians  taught  to  use  the  musical  instruments  of 
civilization,  upon  which  many  of  them  became  expert 
performers.  In  the  choir  gallery  of  each  Mission  — 
always  in  the  rear  of  the  church  —  the  choristers  and 
orchestra  (one  or  both)  met  at  each  service.  The 
music  book  was  a  tremendous  folio  —  there  are  five 
of  them  now  at  the  San  Luis  Rey  Mission  —  large 
enough  to  be  seen  by  twenty  or  more  singers  standing 
around  it  (Chapter  XIX).  One  of  the  fathers  took  his 
place  as  precentor,  in  front  of  the  book,  which  was  laid 
out  on  a  large  revolving  stand,  and  thus,  with  his 
dusky  choir  around  him,  he  directed  the  musical  ser 
vices  of  the  church.  Personally  I  have  known  several 
old  Indians  who  were  thus  honored  by  being  in  the 
choirs  under  the  padres,  and  they  could  never  speak  of 
the  joy  of  those  days  without  tears  welling  up  into  their 
eyes. 

Mrs.  Jackson  refers  to  the  use  of  the  musical  instru 
ments  in  several  places,  in  Ramona,  and  Felipe  informs 
Ramona  (Chapter  V)  that  Alessandro  "  plays  the 
violin  beautifully  .  .  .  the  old  San  Luis  Rey  music. 
His  father  was  band-master  there."  Hence  it  would 
not  be  unreasonable  to  infer  that  he  owned  an  old 


flock  of  sheep  in  Ramona's  country 

Page  37 


Branding  cattle  in  Ramona's  country 
Page 


Indian  granary  for  acorns 

Page  55 


Moss-corered  live  oaks  in  /Pomona's  country 

Page  55 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      37 

violin,  given  to  him  by  Pablo,  his  father,  for  several 
of  the  padres  were  themselves  accomplished  violinists, 
and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  they  brought  their 
instruments  with  them  from  Spain.  This  would  lay 
the  foundation  for  the  supposed  "  pawning  "  of  the 
violin  by  Alessandro  at  the  Hartsel  store,  as  told  in 
Chapter  XVII. 

Another  surprise  to  many  readers  is  that  the  author 
makes  Pablo  (Chapter  V)  "  Father  Peyris'  right- 
hand  man  at  the  Mission;  he  kept  all  the  accounts 
about  the  cattle;  paid  the  wages;  handled  thousands 
of  dollars  of  gold  every  month."  Yet  many  Indians 
were  made  mayor-domos  at  the  various  Missions  during 
the  old  regime,  and  not  one  is  known  to  have  defalcated 
or  in  any  way  violated  his  trust. 

Pablo  also  managed  (Chapter  VII)  "  the  Mission 
flocks  and  herds  at  San  Luis  Rey  for  twenty  years,  and 
few  were  as  skilful  as  he."  There  was  no  limit  to  the 
trust  placed  in  these  superior  Indians  by  the  old  padres, 
and  men  never  lived  who  were  more  worthy  of  trust  than 
they.  Therefore,  with  this  in  view,  it  is  natural  that 
Alessandro  is  made  to  have  had  great  experience  with- 
sheep.  Juan  Can  tells  the  Sefiora  (Chapter  VIII),  "  I 
do  marvel  where  the  lad  got  so  much  knowledge,  at  his 
age.  He  is  like  an  old  hand  at  the  sheep  business.  He 
knows  more  than  any  shepherd  I  have,  —  a  deal  more; 
and  it  is  not  only  of  sheep.  He  has  had  experience, 
too,  in  the  handling  of  cattle.  Juan  Jose  has  been 
beholden  to  him  more  than  once,  already,  for  a  remedy 
of  which  he  knew  not." 


38    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

All  this  may  be  said  truthfully  to-day  of  the  sheep- 
keeping  Indians,  such  as  the  Navahos.  They  will 
herd  sheep,  and  keep  them  in  good  condition,  under 
adverse  circumstances  that  would  discourage  and  dis 
hearten  white  men.  Many  Navahos  own  flocks  run 
ning  up  into  the  hundreds,  and  there  are  not  a  few  who 
own  thousands.  Horses  and  cattle,  too,  are  owned  in 
large  herds. 

In  regard  to  the  evictions,  they  have  been  treated 
of  in  another  chapter.  As  Mrs.  Jackson  says  in  one 
of  her  letters  to  Mr.  Kinney,  she  placed  the  Temecula 
eviction  wrongly  in  point  of  time,  for  dramatic  effect. 
Otherwise  every  slight  detail  in  Ramona  is  based  upon 
actual  occurrences,  and  few  things  in  the  annals  of 
Irish  evictions  can  surpass  some  of  these  details  in  their 
hideous  cruelty. 

In  Chapter  V  the  sheep -shearing  has  actually  com 
menced.  Many  Indian  bands  of  sheep-shearers  used 
to  roam  the  country,  exactly  as  described  in  Ramona, 
and  each  one  elected  its  captain.  They  were  generally 
expert  shearers,  not  to  be  outdone  by  Spaniard  or 
Mexican. 

Baling  machines  were  unknown  in  those  days,  and 

the  baling  of  the  fleeces  was  done  as  described  in  this 

,  chapter.     No  wonder  that  the  heat,  dust  and  stench 

1  overpowered  the  half -sick  Felipe,  so  that  he  fainted, 

brought  back  his  illness  and  thus  made  it  possible  for 

Alessandro,  through   his  singing   and   playing,  to   be 

brought  and  kept  in  close  association  with  Ramona. 

Then  Juan  Canito  had  to  break  his  leg  (Chapter  VI). 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      39 

I  wonder  if  Mrs.  Jackson  dreamed  that  in  describing 
his  sensations  she  was  picturing  what  she  herself  was 
to  suffer  so  soon,  as  her  letters  reveal. 

All  through  the  pages  of  Ramona  are  statements  that 
surprise  those  who  are  unfamiliar  with  the  real  Indian 
as  he  was  in  the  days  of  the  padres.  Take  the  faithful 
watching  of  Alessandro  (Chapter  VI)  when  Felipe  was 
so  ill.  "  Faithful  as  a  dog,"  may  well  be  paraphrased 
into  "  faithful  as  an  Indian,"  to  those  who  know. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  look  of  sweet  tenderness  and 
anxiety  that  shone  in  the  eyes  and  face  of  an  old  Hava- 
supai  Indian,  as  I  stood  on  the  edge  of  a  three  thousand 
foot  high  precipice  and  looked  down  into  the  gorge  at 
the  junction  of  the  Grand  and  Havasu  Canyons.  As 
he  put  one  arm  around  me,  holding  onto  a  rock  with  the 
other,  he  said:  "  You  are  aico  —  my  white  friend  — 
and  it  makes  me  cold  at  the  heart  to  see  you  run  such  a 
risk."  And  when,  afterwards,  I  talked  to  him  about 
it,  he  said:  "  I  love  you,  my  fend,"  and  putting  his 
hand  over  his  heart,  he  said,  "  You  my  fend,  I  your 
fend;  I  feel  bad  when  you  put  yourself  in  danger." 

The  references  to  the  fetes  on  the  Saints'  Days 
(Chapter  VI)  are  interesting.  Every  Indian  village 
has  its  patron  saint,  San  Juan  (Saint  John)  San  Este- 
ban  (St.  Stephen),  San  Pedro  (St.  Peter),  or  some  other, 
and 'each  saint  has  his  own  feast  day.  On  the  feast  day 
of  their  particular  saint  the  villages  have  their  great 
annual  fiesta,  and  if  one  could  have  seen  these  fiestas  in  the 
old  days,  before  the  Indians  were  so  spoiled  by  the  evils 
of  our  civilization,  he  certainly  would  have  enjoyed  a 


40    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

wonderful  experience.  In  Arizona  and  New  Mexico, 
in  less  accessible  regions,  and  where  white  influences 
have  not  so  thoroughly  penetrated,  these  fiestas  could 
have  been  witnessed  ten,  twenty  years  ago,  and  I  have 
seen  many  of  them.  A  service  is  held  in  the  church  — 
mass,  if  the  priest  is  there  —  then  the  figure  of  the 
patron  saint  is  taken  down  from  over  the  altar,  put  into 
a  convenient  cabinet  for  carrying,  over  which  a  rich 
canopy  is  placed,  and  two  or  four  sturdy  Indians 
carry  it  aloft,  preceded  by  an  acolyte  bearing  the  cross, 
at  the  head  of  the  procession.  Then  come  the  singers 
and  the  great  mass  of  the  people.  Round  the  village 
they  go,  finally  depositing  the  statue  in  a  temporary 
shrine  near  where  the  rest  of  the  day's  events  occur. 
These  consist  of  making  thank-offerings  to  the  gods  at 
the  shrine,  dances  (which  are  always  sacred),  singing, 
dramatic  representations,  racing,  feats  of  horseman 
ship,  the  gallo  race,  where  a  rooster  is  buried  up  to  the 
neck  in  the  sand,  and  a  hundred  horsemen  ride  one  after 
another  at  the  highest  speed,  each  leaning  from  his 
saddle  and  trying  to  pick  up  the  wretched  bird  by  the 
neck.  The  successful  contestant  is  then  followed  by 
all  the  rest,  laughing,  shouting,  shrieking,  each  trying 
to  catch  him  and  wrest  the  bird,  in  whole  or  ,in  part, 
from  him,  while  the  eager  spectators  climb  to  the  house 
tops,  or  any  other  point  of  vantage  to  watch  how  the 
good-natured  conflict  ends. 

And  one  has  but  to  read  the  annual  reports  of  the 
Indian  agents  to  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  affairs  to 
see  how  true  is  the  charge  that  "  disorderly  whites  took 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      41 

advantage  of  these  occasions  to  sell  whiskey  and  en 
courage  all  sorts  of  license  and  disturbance."  I  have 
been  at  a  Southern  California  fiesta  where  white  men 
and  Mexicans  (the  latter  are  just  as  bad,  but  no  worse, 
than  the  former)  have  sold  so  much  whiskey  to  the 
Indians  that  every  man,  woman  and  child  was  more 
or  less  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  many  of  them 
beastly  drunk,  lying  around  in  their  ramadas  (tempo 
rary  brush  shacks  erected  for  the  occasion)  and  yielding 
to  the  grossest  sensuality.  There  is  no  denying  the 
fact  that  when  Indians  begin  to  drink  they  do  not 
know  where  to  stop,  and,  while  I  am  a  firm  believer  in 
and  upholder  of  all  just  and  righteous  laws,  I  am  free 
to  confess  that  it  often  seems  to  me  that  a  coat  of  tar 
and  feathers  and  being  ridden  out  on  a  rail  would  be  an 
impartial  and  just  punishment  for  the  wretches  who,  for 
the  sake  of  paltry  pelf,  debauch  the  Indians  with 
liquor. 

The  statues  of  the  saints,  referred  to  above,  are  sev 
eral  times  spoken  of  by  Mrs.  Jackson  in  Ramona.  The 
Indians  regarded  them  with  great  veneration  and 
could  not  bear  to  see  them  treated  with  disrespect. 
Alessandro  is  said  once  to  have  gone  to  San  Fernando 
and  "  there  he  had  seen  in  a  room  a  dozen  statues  of 
saints  huddled  in  dusty  confusion."  This  used  to  be 
the  fact  at  San  Juan  Capistrano  before  more  apprecia 
tive  priests  in  a  later  day  took  care  of  them.  Mrs. 
Jackson  undoubtedly  saw  these  figures  at  San  Juan  and 
that  suggested  to  her  the  idea  that,  in  the  story, 
Ramona  would  be  delighted  by  Alessandro's  obtaining 


42    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

one  of  these  neglected  statues.  This  was  done  and  the 
"  saint  "  brought  and  placed  in  their  humble  Indian 
home. 

When  Alessandro  was  prevailed  upon  to  remain  to 
help  take  care  of  Felipe,  the  band  of  sheep  shearers  of 
which  he  was  the  captain  decided  to  vote  for  the  elec 
tion  of  a  new  one.  This  is  the  universal  habit  of 
election  to  office,  whether  a  minor  and  voluntary  chief  - 
tanship,  as  in  this  case,  or  in  the  case  of  the  captainship 
of  the  village.  Bach  village  has  its  capitan,  alcalde, 
(or  judge),  and  sheriff.  All  are  elected  subject  to  the 
approval  of  the  Indian  agent,  who,  if  he  is  not  satis 
fied  with  the  elected  one,  either  appoints  a  new  officer 
or  orders  a  new  election.  Where  there  is  a  faction  of 
the  Indians  opposed  to  the  white  man's  methods,  his 
schools,  his  churches,  etc., —  hostiles,  as  they  are 
termed, —  and  the  hostiles  outnumber  the  friendlies, 
this  vetoing  power  of  the  agent  is  often  called  upon. 
In  some  cases,  as  for  instance  among  the  Yumas,  the 
line  of  demarcation  has  been  so  clearly  outlined  that 
the  two  factions  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  each 
other,  and  a  state  of  open  and  avowed  war  has  existed. 
The  same  has  been  even  more  strongly  marked  in 
some  of  the  Hopi  pueblos  of  northern  Arizona,  where 
United  States  troops  have  several  times  been  called 
upon  to  aid  the  agent  to  quell  the  disturbances  caused 
by  the  enmities  of  the  friendly  and  hostile  factions. 

At  Yuma,  the  hostiles,  for  years,  refused  to  have 
any  doings  with  the  friendlies.  Their  powwows  or 
councils  were  held  separately,  and  whatever  the 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      43 

friendlies  did  was  sure  to  be  opposed  and  criticized  by 
the  ho  stiles. 

At  one  time  all  the  villages  of  one  language  or  stock 
in  Southern  California  elected  a  head  chief,  or  general, 
but  this  was  found  to  work  disadvantageously  to  the 
plans  of  the  agents,  so  it  was  discouraged  and  finally 
forbidden.  The  General,  by  uniting  all  the  forces  of 
his  people,  could  often  circumvent  the  action  of  white 
people  of  some  influence,  or  could  prevail  upon  the 
whole  tribe  to  follow  some  prescribed  course  of  action. 
Now,  there  is  no  head  chief.  Mrs.  Jackson  refers  to 
this  in  Chapter  VII. 

In  my  book  What  the  White  Race  may  Learn  from 
the  Indian  I  have  told  of  some  of  the  things  wherein 
the  Indian  race  may  teach  us.  Most  of  these  things 
Mrs.  Jackson  has  presented  in  the  pages  of  Ramona. 
Felipe  was  a  highly  cultured  gentleman,  yet  we  read 
(Chapter  VII) :  "  If  Juan  had  been  told  that  the  Sefior 
Felipe  himself  had  not  been  more  carefully  trained  in 
all  precepts  of  kindness,  honorable  dealing,  and  polite 
usage,  by  the  Sefiora,  his  mother,  than  had  Alessandro 
by  his  father,  he  would  have  opened  his  eyes  wide. 
The  standards  of  the  two  parents  were  different,  to  be 
sure;  but  the  advantage  could  not  be  shown  to  be  en 
tirely  on  the  Senora's  side.  There  were  many  things 
that  Felipe  knew,  of  which  Alessandro  was  profoundly 
ignorant;  but  there  were  others  in  which  Alessandro 
could  have  taught  Felipe;  and  when  it  came  to  the 
things  of  the  soul,  and  of  honor,  Alessandro's  plane 
was  the  higher  of  the  two." 


44    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

There  is  nothing  in  our  national  treatment  of  the 
Indians  that  has  cut  them  more  to  the  quick  than  our 
assumption  that  they  had  no  honor,  no  character,  no 
truth.  It  was  bad  enough  to  rob  them  of  their  lands, 
their  homes,  their  hunting  grounds,  but  to  rob  them 
of  their  character  and  to  let  it  go  on  record  that  they 
were  without  honor  or  any  spiritual  development  was 
an  injustice  as  cruel  as  it  was  criminal.  In  the  finer 
instincts  there  are  many  Indians  who  are  far  ahead 
of  most  white  people.  In  Chapter  VII  Mrs.  Jackson 
shows  Alessandro  to  be  offended  when  Ramona  offered 
to  pay  for  the  messenger  that  he  had  sent  for  his  violin, 
and  Felipe  exclaims:  [e  You  couldn't  have  offended 
him  more.  What  a  pity!  He  is  as  proud  as  Lucifer 
himself,  that  Alessandro." 

Yet  even  Felipe  did  not  understand  when  (Chapter 
VII)  commenting  on  the  hospitality  of  Pablo,  who 
"  feeds  and  supports  half  his  village  "  and  who  will 
never  see  one  of  his  Indians  go  hungry  so  long  as  he 
has  anything,"  he  says:  "  Of  course  they  have  learned 
it  partly  from  us."  The  Indians  have  a  standard  of 
generosity  or  hospitality  so  far  above  that  of  the  white 
man  that  it  cannot  be  placed  in  comparison,  —  it  is 
beyond  compare  —  and  it  was  theirs  long  before  a 
Spaniard  had  even  trodden  the  shores  of  this  Continent. 

In  Chapter  VIII  is  a  remark  that  few  white  readers 
of  Ramona  would  value  at  its  full  significance.  Ales 
sandro  is  talking  to  Juan  Canito  and  says :  "  My  father 
is  many  years  older  than  you  are,  and  he  rules  our 
people  to-day  as  firmly  as  ever.  I  myself  obey  him, 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      45 

as  if  I  were  a  lad  still."  In  that  truthful  statement 
is  an  exaltation  of  the  Indian  race  and  a  rebuke  to  our 
own.  We  forget  that  age  entitles  to  reverence.  Our 
youth  care  nothing  for  gray  hairs  and  the  experience 
of  age,  and  their  irreverence  is  ghastly  and  horrible 
to  a  truly  thoughtful  soul.  Yet  with  every  Indian, 
in  his  natural  state,  the  aged  are  treated  with  reverence 
and  respect.  Young  men  and  maidens  do  not  flip 
pantly  pass  by  their  counsel  and  advice,  nor  laugh  at 
their  warnings  and  suggestions. 

When  it  comes  to  a  recognition  of  the  simple  and 
natural  laws  of  health,  Mrs.  Jackson  shows  her  keen 
appreciation  of  the  Indians'  actual  superiority  over  the 
white  race.  Alessandro,  desirous  of  helping  Felipe 
back  to  health,  "  meditated  a  bold  stroke."  He 
knew  that  nowhere,  indoors,  no  matter  how  well  ven 
tilated  a  room  might  be,  was  the  air  as  pure  and  health- 
giving  as  it  was  outside,  where  it  was  vitalized  and 
vivified  by  the  sun  and  wind.  "  I  should  be  as  ill  as 
the  Senor  Felipe,"  he  says,  "  if  I  had  to  stay  in  that 
room,  and  a  bed  is  a  weakening  thing  enough  to  pull 
the  strongest  man  down.  Do  you  think  I  should 
anger  them  if  I  asked  them  to  let  me  bring  Senor 
Felipe  out  to  the  veranda  and  put  him  on  a  bed  of  my 
making?  I'd  wager  my  head  I'd  put  him  on  his  feet 
in  a  week." 

That  is  it !  The  real  apostle  of  the  out-of-doors  and 
the  healthy  life  is  the  Indian.  He  has  lived  it  for  cen 
turies  and  knows,  and  we  are  jurt  beginning,  with  our 
open-air  sleeping  porches,  our  outdoor  sleeping  places 


46    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

for  consumptives,  our  outdoor  athletics  and  the  like 
to  understand  that  the  Indian  knows  a  great  deal 
more  about  health  and  how  to  maintain  it  than  we  do. 

Languishing  for  lack  of  air  and  the  sun  though  he 
was,  even  the  keen  and  loving  eyes  of  the  Senora  were 
blind  to  Felipe's  needs,  and  when  Alessandro  boldly 
asked  her  if  he  might  remove  Felipe  out  of  doors  for : 
"  With  us,  it  is  thought  death  to  be  shut  up  in  walls, 
as  he  has  been  so  long.  Not  till  we  are  sure  to  die,  do 
we  go  into  the  dark  like  that,"  she  hesitated.  "  She 
did  not  share  Alessandro's  prejudice  in  favor  of  fresh 
air."  She  even  exclaimed  the  senseless  and  universal 
cry  of  white  people,  "  Surely  it  is  not  well  to  sleep  out 
in  the  night?  "  and  I  doubt  not  that  thousands  of 
readers  of  Ramona  could  not  swallow  the  statement  of 
Alessandro  when  he  replied  and  told  the  strict  truth: 
''That  is  the  best  of  all,  Senora.  I  beg  the  Senora  try 
it.  If  Sefior  Felipe  have  not  mended  greatly  after 
the  first  night  he  have  so  slept,  then  Alessandro  will 
be  a  liar." 

And  Felipe  but  responded  naturally  to  the  pure 
instinct  within  him  when  he  cried  out:  "  That  is  just 
what  I  needed.  This  cursed  bed  racks  every  bone  in 
my  body,  and  I  have  longed  for  the  sun  more  than 
ever  a  thirsty  man  longed  for  water.  Bless  you, 
Alessandro.  Come  here,  and  take  me  up  in  those  long 
arms  of  yours,  and  carry  me  quick.  Already  I  feel 
myself  better."  And  better  he  quickly  became. 
Indeed  he  was  soon  himself  again.  The  time  will  come 
when  sensible  people  will  look  back  upon  our  civilized  (!) 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      4? 

sleeping  and  living  habits  of  to-day  with  blank  amaze. 
They  will  be  unable  to  comprehend  how  we  could 
exist  and  remain  indoors,  and  especially  how  we  could 
deprive  ourselves  of  the  joy  of  outdoor  sleeping.  A 
house  without  a  place  for  outdoor  sleeping  of  all  its 
inmates  is  incomplete,  and  a  hospital  without  outdoor 
places  for  the  beds  of  every  patient  is  a  crime  and  a 
cruelty.  At  the  St.  Helena  Sanitarium  the  hospital 
bedrooms  are  connected  with  large,  wide  porches  by 
sliding  windows,  so  that  every  patient's  bed,  without 
any  trouble,  and  at  a  moment's  notice,  can  be  wheeled 
out  into  the  sun  and  air.  These  are  God's  remedial  and 
health  agents,  more  than  surgeons,  physicians,  nurses 
and  all  the  drugs  and  nostrums  of  the  pharmacy.  Yet 
we  have  had  to  learn  the  lesson  from  the  despised 
Indians,  and  we  are  so  obstinate  that  millions  of  us 
in  the  great  United  States  haven't  learned  it  yet. 
Those  who  continue  to  remain  obstinate,  however, 
will  soon  die  off,  and  then,  perhaps,  the  new  generation 
will  see  a  little  more  clearly. 

As  for  the  rawhide  bed,  Alessandro  does  not  over 
estimate  its  virtues  as  compared  with  the  ordinary 
bed,  especially  those  that  sag  in  the  middle  after  the 
fashion  of  a  hammock.  The  harder  the  bed,  in  reason, 
the  more  comfortable,  after  a  little  while  to  get  used 
to  it,  and  always  the  more  healthful. 

In  Chapter  VII  Alessandro  tells  of  the  speed  and 
strength  of  the  Indian  pony  or  bronco:  "  They  can  go 
a  hundred  miles  in  a  day,  and  not  suffer."  This  fact 
has  been  a  source  of  surprise  to  many  familiar  with  the 


48    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

limitations  of  horses  in  the  Eastern  climate.  These 
creatures  are  so  tough  that  they  seem  tireless,  and 
their  achievements  are  almost  beyond  the  belief  of 
those  who  do  not  know  them. 

With  her  ready  sympathy  with  all  nature  it  would 
not  have  been  possible  for  Mrs.  Jackson  to  neglect  the 
dove  of  Southern  California.  In  Ramona's  day  they 
were  to  be  found  in  vast  numbers.  The  sportsman 
and  pot-hunter  of  the  civilized  race  are  rapidly  exter 
minating  them.  Exquisitely  and  beautifully'  the 
dove  is  woven  into  the  story.  Alessandro,  heart- 
hungry  and  sick  for  Ramona,  who  was  locked  up  by 
the  hard-hearted  Senora,  was  comforted  (Chapter  X) 
by  Felipe  and  "  the  notes  of  two  wood-doves,  that  at 
intervals  he  heard,  cooing  to  each  other;  just  the  two 
notes,  the  call  and  the  answer,  '  Love?  '  *  Here.' 
'  Love?  '  'Here,' — and  long  intervals  of  silence 
between.  That  is  what  my  Ramona  is  like,  the  gentle 
wood-dove.  If  she  is  my  wife  my  people  will  call  her 
Majel,  the  Wood-Dove." 

When  (Chapter  XV)  Ramona  is  trying  to  get  Ales 
sandro  to  call  her  by  her  long  used  name  he  finally  tells 
her,  at  her  questioning,  why  he  gave  her  the  name 
Majella  —  pronounced  Mah-yhel-la,  with  a  soft  em 
phasis  on  the  second  syllable  —  and  continues:  "  The 
wood-dove's  voice  is  low  like  yours,  and  sweeter  than 
any  other  sound  in  the  earth;  and  the  wood-dove  is 
true  to  one  mate  always." 

Again,  when  Ramona  was  asleep  in  the  solitude  of 
the  canyon,  and  Alessandro  sat  watching  her,  the  doves 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      49 

sing  their  sweet  messages  of  comfort  to  him  (Chapter 
XV). 

Joaquin  Miller,  in  one  of  his  sweetest  poems  gives  us 

THE  VOICE  OF  THE  DOVE. 

Come,  listen,  O  Love,  to  the  voice  of  the  dove, 

Come,  harken  and  hear  him  say 
There  are  many  To-morrows,  my  Love,  my  Love, 

There  is  only  one  To-day. 

And  all  day  long  you  can  hear  him  say 

This  day  in  purple  is  rolled, 
And  the  baby  stars  of  the  milky  way 

They  are  cradled  in  cradles  of  gold. 

Now  what  is  thy  secret,  serene  gray  dove 

Of  singing  so  sweetly   alway? 

"  There  are  many  To-morrows,  my  Love,  my  Love, 
There  is  only  one  To-day." 

Alessandro  (Chapter  XIX)  introduces  Ramoria  to 
his  people  at  the  village  of  San  Pasquale  as  Majel, 
the  wood-dove,  and  with  a  stroke  of  finesse  that  is 
wonderfully  Indian,  he  commends  her  by  saying: 
"  She  is  glad  to  lay  down  her  old  name  forever,  to  bear 
this  new  name  in  our  tongue." 

Even  on  the  last  page  of  the  book  Mrs.  Jackson  lov 
ingly  dwells  upon  the  call  of  the  wood-dove  and 
Ramona's  name,  Majella,  associating  it  in  Ramona's 
mind  with  the  loving  devotion  she  gave  to  her  dead 
Alessandro. 

Nothing  in  the  pages  of  Ramona  is  more  truthful  to 


50    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

fact  than  the  running  away  of  Ramona  and  Alessandro 
to  be  married,  —  their  childlike  and  simple  acceptance 
of  each  other.  They  had  no  thought  of  being  "  com 
promised  "  or  of  any  person  being  so  unclean-minded 
as  to  think  evil  of  them.  Had  the  novelist  been  writing 
of  white  people  such  an  act  would  have  been  construed 
into  a  proof  of  vilest  evil.  George  Eliot,  in  her  Mill 
on  the  Floss,  makes  Stephen  Guest  and  Maggie  Tulliver, 
out  for  a  boat-ride,  glide  so  far  away  en  an  outgoing 
tide  that  they  cannot  return  home,  and  Stephen,  who 
has  long  loved  Maggie,  urges  her  to  go  on  further  and 
marry  him.  Maggie  yields,  but  finally  decides  that 
a  marriage  with  Stephen  would  bring  much  misery  to 
others  and  she  will  return  home.  When  she  declares 
this  Stephen  shows  her  that  by  their  act  the  world  will 
believe  they  are  already  married,  and  if  they  dare  to 
return  and  say  they  are  unmarried,  "  you  don't  know 
what  will  be  said." 

And  Maggie's  brother  sees  in  this  act  that  which  is 
worse  than  death, —  disgrace,  so  that  when  he  sees 
Maggie  he  greets  her:  "  You  will  find  no  home  with 
me.  You  have  disgraced  us  all.  You  have  disgraced 
my  father's  name.  You  have  been  a  curse  to  your 
best  friends.  You  have  been  base  —  deceitful ;  no 
motives  are  strong  enough  to  restrain  you.  I  wash 
my  hands  of  you  for  ever.  You  don't  belong  to  me!  " 

And  Tom  Tulliver's  standard  is  the  generally  ac 
cepted  one  of  the  white  race.  Think  of  it.  What  a 
conception  we  have  of  the  honor  and  purity  of  our  sons 
and  daughters  that  we  assume  —  the  whole  race  takes 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      51 

it  as  a  matter  of  course  —  that,  given  the  opportunity 
to  be  impure,  the  crime  is  as  good  as  committed. 

As  for  me,  give  me  the  standard  of  the  Indian,  as 
indicated  in  the  story.  I  do  not  want  to  believe  evil 
of  even  my  enemies,  much  less  my  friends,  unless  I  am 
compelled  to  do  so,  and  I  am  grateful  to  Mrs.  Jackson 
for  the  lesson  thus  forcefully  read  to  the  white  race  in 
the  beautiful,  simple,  exquisite  way  she  treated  the 
elopement  of  her  hero  and  heroine. 

Another  touching  and  beautiful  scene  in  Ramona 
is  where  the  oldest  woman  of  San  Pasquale  is  brought 
to  see  the  new-comer  (Ramona)  and  pass  judgment 
upon  her  (Chapter  XIX).  This  scene  reveals  much 
of  Indian  character,  and  Mrs.  Jackson's  sympathetic 
and  intuitive  comprehension  of  it.  Without  this  com 
prehension  she  could  not  have  written  as  she  did.  I 
have  seen  just  such  old  women,  women  so  withered 
and  shriveled  as  to  be  scarcely  human,  yet  when  they 
spoke  they  uttered  words  of  wisdom,  words  of  serene 
judgment  that  were  listened  to  with  great  respect  by 
their  fellow  villagers. 

When  Ramona  fled  from  Camulos  she  had  two  of  the 
"  large  nets  which  the  Indian  women  use  for  carrying 
all  sorts  of  burdens.  They  are  woven  out  of  the  fibres 
of  a  flax-like  plant,  and  are  as  strong  as  iron.  The 
meshes  being  large,  they  are  very  light;  are  gathered 
at  each  end,  and  fastened  to  a  band  which  goes  around 
the  forehead.  In  these  can  be  carried  on  the  back, 
with  comparative  ease,  heavier  loads  than  could  be 
lifted  in  any  other  way."  The  photogVaph  shows  one 


52    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  the  Cahuilla  Indians  carrying  one  of  these  nets,  to 
which  they  give  the  Spanish  name  of  red  (pronounced, 
however,  rayd'-ah).  Into  these  Ramona  placed  Ales- 
sandro's  violin,  her  own  clothes,  food,  wine  and  milk 
for  the  journey,  and  when  Alessandro  brought  her  to  her 
horse,  Baba,  he  arranged  these,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
saddle,  before  Ramona  mounted. 

There  are  several  canyons  which  might  have  been 
the  one  Mrs.  Jackson  had  in  mind  where  she  made 
the  lovers  sleep.  In  the  accompanying  illustration 
is  a  glimpse  of  one  of  scores  of  Southern  California 
canyons.  Out-of-door  sleeping  in  these  places  is 
growing  more  common  each  year.  In  the  canyons 
and  on  the  foothills  often  grow  profusely  the  yucca 
vuhipplei,  described  in  Chapter  XVI,  and  which  the  old 
Spanish  padres  used  to  call  "  Candlesticks  of  our  Lord," 
because  of  their  exquisite  radiance  of  light  and  beauty. 

The  description  of  Ramona's  out-door  bed  (Chapter 
XVI)  is  so  much  like  what  Indians  have  prepared  for 
me  in  Southern  California  that  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Jackson 
must,  at  some  time  during  her  own  trips  to  the  Indians, 
have  had  a  similar  bed  for  herself.  "  Before  nightfall 
of  this,  their  first  day  in  the  wilderness,  Alessandro  had 
prepared  for  Ramona  a  bed  of  finely  broken  twigs  of 
the  manzanita  and  ceanothus,  both  of  which  grew  in 
abundance  all  through  the  canyon.  Above  these  he 
spread  layers  of  glossy  ferns,  five  and  six  feet  long; 
when  it  was  done,  it  was  a  couch  no  queen  need  have 
scorned." 

The  manzanita  is  one  of  the  best  known  shrubs  of 


Manzanita  bush  in  blossom,  January,  1936 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  E!llerman 
Page  52 


The  blossoms  of  the  "  Candlestick  of  Our  Lord,"  or  Yucca  Whipplei 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 
Page  52 


The  entrance  to  one  of  the  canyons  of  Southern  California 

Page  52 


The  Mountain  White  Lilac  in  bloom,  June,  1907 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Kllerman 

Page  54 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      53 

California.  It  is  plentiful  everywhere.  With  its  rich 
purple  brown  stems,  delicately  green  leaves  and  crown 
of  pale  foliage,  it  is  exquisitely  beautiful,  but  when,  in 
addition,  it  is  dotted  here  and  there  with  its  clusters 
of  fragrant  waxen  flowers,  like  tiny  fairy  bells,  it 
becomes  enchanting.  Sometimes  it  blooms  before 
Christmas,  and  thus  gives  to  the  mountains  and  canyons 
the  earliest  tastes  of  spring's  exuberant  beauty.  The 
name  is  Spanish  manzana,  —  apple,  and  the  diminutive 
ita,  thus,  little  apple,  so  called  because  of  the  resem 
blance  its  berries  have  to  tiny  apples.  These  red  berries 
give  the  shrub  its  botanic  name  —  arctostaphylos  — 
or  Englished  "  bearberry."  The  bears  are  very  fond 
of  them  and  eat  them  ravenously,  though  to  our  taste 
they  are  dry,  fibrous  and  "  not  worth  the  trouble  of 
eating."  The  Indians,  however,  like  them,  and  eat 
them  both  raw  and  pounded  into  a  flour,  from  which 
they  make  mush.  The  flavor  is  pleasantly  acid,  and 
they  make  excellent  jelly.  On  my  last  visit  to  the 
Thomas  Ranch,  before  my  good  old  friend,  Charles 
Thomas,  left  it  to  go  to  reside  in  Redlands,  his  daugh 
ter,  Emma,  known  and  beloved  alike  by  Spaniards, 
Mexicans,  Indians,  cowboys,  miners,  visitors,  tourists 
and  residents,  gave  me  a  jar  of  it  to  bring  home.  It  is 
a  delicious  jelly,  with  a  distinctive  flavor  of  the  wild 
mountains  and  canyons. 

It  was  the  ceanothus  that  Alessandro  placed  "  at 
the  head  for  Majella's  pillow,"  for  it  is  rich  and  spicy 
in  odor,  and  is  often  called  spice- wood.  The  children 
also  call  it ' '  old  man . ' '  There  are  a  number  of  varieties 


54    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  ceanothus,  a  common  one,  integerrimus,  sometimes 
covering  the  lower  slopes  of  the  Southern  California 
ranges  with  its  white  bloom  almost  like  drifted  snow. 
Others  grow  somewhat  taller  and  have  a  lilac-tinted 
bloom,  while  the  commonest  of  all,  perhaps,  the  divari- 
catus,  have  a  light-blue  flower  sometimes  toned  down 
to  almost  pure  white.  The  leaves  of  these  shrubs 
all  have  the  useful  quality  of  saponacity.  If  one  takes 
a  handful  of  them  down  to  a  mountain  stream,  and  there 
rubs  them  vigorously  as  though  they  were  soap,  he 
will  find  his  hands  soon  covered  with  a  plentiful  lather 
sweetly  fragrant  like  wintergreen.  The  Indians  use 
it  largely,  both  for  themselves  and  for  washing  their 
clothes,  and  it  leaves  the  hands  soft  and  fragrant, 
and  gives  to  linen  a  snowy  white  appearance. 

Capitan,  the  faithful  dog,  helped  Alessandro  watch 
the  sleeping  Ramona,  and  "  more  than  once,  spite  of 
all  Alessandro  could  do  to  quiet  him,  made  the  canyon 
echo  with  sharp,  quick  notes  of  warning,  as  he  heard 
the  stealthy  steps  of  wild  creatures  in  the  chaparral." 

Chaparral  seems  to  be  a  general  term  used  in  Cali 
fornia  to  describe  any  thick  underbrush.  For  instance 
Theodore  S.  Van  Dyke,  in  one  of  his  books,  says  of  the 
mountain  brooks:  "  Farther  up  it  divides  into  smaller 
brooks,  that  hiss  with  speed  through  winding  glens, 
along  whose  sides  the  wild  lilac  pours  forth  a  rich  per 
fume  from  panicles  of  lavender  and  white;  where  the 
mountain  mimulus  hangs  full  of  golden  trumpets; 
where  the  manzanita  outstretches  its  red  arms  full- 
hung  with  its  little  green  apple-shaped  berries,  and  the 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      55 

wild  mahogany,  aglow  with  a  bloom  of  white  or  blue, 
unites  with  the  bright-green  cherry  to  form  an  almost 
impenetrable  chaparral." 

In  another  place  he  speaks  of  "  a  wall  of  bright-green 
chaparral  higher  than  one's  head  and  almost  impene 
trable,"  and  still  again:  "The  velvet  hue  that  this 
chaparral  gives  the  hills  changes  with  the  sunlight 
through  a  dozen  shades  from  pea -green  on  the  sunlit 
slopes  at  mid-day  to  the  darkest  blue  on  the  shady 
ones  at  evening,  and  is  a  most  restful  change  for  the  eye 
from  the  brown  shimmering  plains  or  bare  red  hills." 

The  hill  on  which  the  oak  trees  grew  (Chapter  XVII) 
not  far  from  Hartsel's  store,  was  a  place  well  known  to 
Mrs.  Jackson.  There  are  many  fine  live-oak  trees 
covered  with  acorns  and  all  people  familiar  with  Indians 
know  how  large  a  place  the  acorn  has  in  their  diet. 
Pounded  in  a  mortar  until  it  is  reduced  to  flour,  it  is 
mixed  with  water,  and  certain  herbs  and  the  bitter  taste 
leached  out.  A  bowl-shaped  depression  is  made  and 
covered  or  lined  with  muslin.  Into  this  is  poured  the 
acorn  flour-mixture.  As  the  water  steeps  away,  a 
mushy  substance  is  left  which  is  allowed  partially  to 
dry.  It  is  then  cut  into  strips  and  laid  out  on  canvas 
or  on  the  rocks  to  dry  in  the  sun.  When  dry  it  is  either 
stored  away  for  future  use,  or  pounded  up  again  into 
flour  to  be  made  into  mush,  acorn-bread,  tortillas  or 
other  forms  of  food. 

The  mountain  lion,  which  Alessandro  heard  with 
some  fear,  while  Ramona  slept  (Chapter  XVI)  is  the 
Felis  Concolor,  the  puma,  or  panther.  It  is  a  member 


56    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  the  cat  family,  and  has  all  of  the  feline  qualities. 
Hence  the  care  with  which  Alessandro  loaded  his  gun 
and  watched  the  couch  of  his  beloved  senorita  through 
out  the  night. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  Hartsel  store,  and  its 
owners.  The  descriptions  given  in  Ramona,  in  Chap 
ter  XVII,  are  true  to  life. 

On  leaving  Temecula,  Ramona  and  Alessandro  came 
out  of  the  canyon  of  that  name  and  got  their  first  whiff 
of  the  sea,  and  Alessandro  describes  the  charm  of  it  to  his 
Majella  (Chapter  XVIII).  Mrs.  Jackson  was  here  re 
citing  her  own  experience  as  she  rode  out  of  Temecula 
Canyon,  and  her  own  great  fondness  for  the  Pacific. 

The  lighthouse  (Chapter  XVIII)  is  on  Point  Loma, 
the  point  that  shuts  in  the  harbor  of  San  Diego.  It  is 
a  prominent  landmark  as  well  as  a  guide  to  the  sailors. 
Seen  from  San  Diego,  Hotel  del  Coronado  and  all  the 
surrounding  country,  it  is  a  well-known  object.  Point 
Loma  is  where  the  theosophical  headquarters,  presided 
over  by  Katherine  Tingley,  are  located,  and  the  exten 
sive  and  elaborate  buildings  of  the  brotherhood  make  of 
it  a  most  noted  place  to  members  throughout  the  world. 

There  is  little  question  but  that  Father  A.  D.  Ubach, 
was  the  original  of  the  Father  Gaspara  of  Raniona,  the 
San  Diego  priest  who  married  the  hero  and  heroine. 
In  spite  of  his  German  name,  he  was  of  Spanish  birth, 
for  he  was  born  in  Barcelona,  seventy-three  years  ago. 
He  belonged  to  an  old  and  distinguished  Catalonian 
family.  When  about  twenty- three  years  of  age  he 
came  to  this  country  and  in  Missouri  continued  the 


The  home  of  Father  Ubach  (Father  Gaspara),  at  old  San  Diego,  where 
Ramona  is  said  to  have  been  married 
Page  56 


The  altar  in  the  old  San  Diego  Chapel 

Page  57 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      57 

studies,  begun  in  youth,  for  the  Catholic  ministry.  In 
1 860  he  was  ordained  and  came  to  California,  his  first 
pastorates  being  San  Luis  Obispo  and  Watsonville.  In 
1 868  he  moved  to  San  Diego  and  took  up  his  residence 
in  Old  Town,  in  the  house  before  referred  to.  When 
the  present  San  Diego  was  built  Father  Ubach  raised 
funds  and  erected  a  church,  part  of  which  stands  in 
the  present  Catholic  church.  He  also  started  to  build 
a  church  in  old  San  Diego  but  got  little  further  than  the 
foundations,  just  as  related  in  Chapter  XVIII.  Mrs. 
Jackson  dealt  with  this  fact  in  a  most  sympathetic 
manner.  She  wrote,  "A  few  paces  off  from  his  door 
stood  the  first  begun  walls  of  a  fine  church,  which  it  had 
been  the  dream  and  pride  of  his  heart  to  see  builded, 
and  full  of  worshippers.  This,  too,  had  failed.  With 
San  Diego's  repeatedly  vanishing  hopes  and  dreams  of 
prosperity  had  gone  this  hope  and  dream  of  Father 
Gaspara's.  It  looked  now  as  if  it  would  be  indeed  a 
waste  of  money  to  build  a  costly  church  on  this  site. 
Sentiment,  however  sacred  arid  loving  towards  the 
dead,  must  yield  to  the  demands  of  the  living.  To 
build  a  church  on  the  ground  where  Father  Junipero 
first  trod  and  labored,  would  be  a  work  to  which  no 
Catholic  could  be  indifferent ;  but  there  were  other  and 
more  pressing  claims  to  be  met  first.  This  was  right. 
Yet  the  sight  of  these  silent  walls,  only  a  few  feet 
high,  was  a  sore  one  to  Father  Gaspara, —  a  daily 
cross,  which  he  did  not  find  grow  lighter  as  he  paced 
up  and  down  his  veranda,  year  in  and  year  out,  in  the 
balmy  winter  and  cool  summer  of  that  magic  climate." 


58    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

His  faithfulness,  unselfishness  and  devotion  to  the 
good  of  the  Indians  so  commended  him  to  them  that  in 
a  few  short  years  they  gave  to  him  a  reverence  and 
obedience  little  short  of  hero  worship.  His  word  was 
law  among  them.  They  came  from  as  far  south  as 
San  Rafael  on  the  Peninsula,  and  from  San  Juan 
Capistrano  on  the  north,  for  in  the  early  years  of  his 
pastorate  there  was  no  priest  at  San  Luis  Rey.  He  had 
a  peculiar  "  faculty  "  in  handling  even  the  most  tur 
bulent  and  troublous  of  the  Indians.  One  secret  of  his 
power  was  that,  while  slow  to  make  up  his  mind,  he 
never  altered  a  determination  when  once  arrived  at. 
This  gives  to  any  man,  who  in  other  things  meets  their 
approval,  great  power,  and  such,  undoubtedly,  Father 
Ubach  possessed  over  the  whole  of  the  Indians  of  his 
large  jurisdiction.  Never  making  his  work  a  burden 
to  their  pockets,  his  parishioners  soon  came  to  under 
stand  it  was  their  highest  good  he  was  seeking  and 
they  revered  him  accordingly.  He  died  in  San  Diego, 
in  March,  1908,  beloved  and  mourned  of  all  who  knew 
him.  Mrs.  Jackson's  description  of  him  was  real  and 
true  to  life :  "  Father  Gaspara  had  been  for  many  years 
at  San  Diego.  Although  not  a  Franciscan,  having, 
indeed,  no  especial  love  for  the  order,  he  had  been  from 
the  first  deeply  impressed  by  the  holy  associations  of 
the  place.  He  had  a  nature  at  once  fiery  and  poetic; 
there  were  but  three  things  that  he  could  have  been  — 
a  soldier,  a  poet,  or  a  priest.  Circumstances  had  made 
him  a  priest,  and  the  fire  and  poetry  which  would  have 
wielded  a  sword  or  kindled  a  verse,  had  he  found 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF.  RAMON  A      59 

himself  set  either  to  fight  or  to  sing,  had  all  gathered 
into  added  force  in  his  priestly  vocation. 

"  The  look  of  a  soldier  he  had  never  quite  lost  — 
neither  the  look  nor  the  tread,  and  his  flashing,  dark 
eyes,  heavy  black  hair  and  beard,  and  quick,  elastic 
step  seemed  sometimes  out  of  harmony  with  his 
priest's  gown.  Among  the  Mission  Indians  his  word 
was  law  and  their  love  for  him  was  little  short  of 
worship." 

The  house  at  old  San  Diego,  described  in  Chapter 
XVIII,  is  the  one  occupied  by  the  priest  on  his  visits 
there,  and  thousands  of  photographs  of  it  have  been 
sold  as  "  the  house  where  Ramona  was  married,"  and 
likewise,  similar  thousands  have  been  marked  and  sold 
of  "  the  chapel  where  Ramona  was  married,"  and  of 
' '  the  bells  that  rang  when  Ramona  was  married . ' '  The 
old  house  is  there,  the  chapel  is  there,  and  the  bells 
are  there,  so  why  not  make  use  of  them  ?  So  the  photog 
rapher  has  utilized  them  to  his  profit.  But  the  pur 
chaser  of  the  pictures  seems  to  have  forgotten  that 
Ramona  was  married  only  in  the  brain  of  Mrs.  Jackson, 
and  that  therefore  these  real  bells  can  scarcely  have 
rung  at  a  fictitious  marriage  of  a  fictitious  Ramona  to 
a  fictitious  Alessandro  by  a  fictitious  priest  after  a 
fictitious  elopement  from  a  fictitious  home  of  a  fictitious* 
Senora  Moreno.  But,  all  the  same,  we  reproduce  the 
photographs  of  the  house,  the  chapel,  the  bells,  and 
the  olive  trees  and  palms,  all  of  them  at  old  San  Diego, 
and  made  of  interest  to  us  by  their  introduction  into 
the  story  of  Ramona.  A  reason  for  the  error  of  the  state- 


60    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

ment  that  Ramonawas  married  at  thehouseof  the  priest 
is  found  in  Chapter  XVIII. 

At  several  of  the  Missions  the  old  registers  (Chapter 
XVIII)  are  to  be  found,  and  in  all  of  those  where  the 
Missions  were  founded  by  Padre  Junipero  Serra,  the 
revered  president  of  the  California  Missions,  the  title 
page  is  always  in  his  own  hand.  It  is  a  striking  and 
distinctive  handwriting,  and  at  the  close  of  his  signa 
ture  will  be  observed  his  rubric.  This  rubric  is  found 
after  the  signature  of  all  men  of  his  race  and  day,  each 
one  distinctive  and  individualistic.  It  acted  as  a  kind 
of  seal, —  a  personal  confirmation  of  the  signature. 

The  loving  power  the  Franciscans  held  over  the 
Indians  was  well  understood  by  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  she 
makes  Father  Gaspara,  not  a  Franciscan,  comment 
upon  it  (Chapter  XX).  The  sorrow  of  Ramona  over 
the  death  of  Father  Salvierderra  is  not  at  all  overdrawn. 

When  Felipe  goes  off  in  search  of  Ramona  he  is  made 
to  hear  many  tales  of  the  devotion  of  the  Indians  to 
their  old  padres  (Chapter  XXV),  and  it  is  an  historic 
fact  that  Father  Sarria  died  at  Soledad  of  starvation, 
refusing  to  leave  his  Indians  to  the  wolves  of  seculari 
zation. 

The  devotion  of  the  San  Luis  Rey  Indians  to  Padre 
Peyri  is  truthfully  told  in  Ramona  (Chapter  XVIII). 
They  would  do  anything  for  him,  and  the  true  story 
of  their  swimming  out  to  the  vessel  that  was  to  re 
move  him  from  their  sight  forever  is  a  pathetic  proof 
of  their  deep  affection. 

That  Mrs.  Jackson  viewed  the  Indians  with  a  calm 


.,/  //>,   -fot  * 

(JClft  itiiJ  UbtMQ 

'  -it  t'ji*r  It  '  it   n  w&k 


^wwirdaj,  bpcUuft  G*»w.  afa  $*%?&  £%f*$ 
$*eiSf4  *CV<?/»  Jni&*\k>  @CYI>W  r&W,y(&j&&: 

$efc  **»*  ^o^l^^^S^wf^^^ 

J^««^S  ^oe/f/^  ybijti»cF&to($dl*  Zbtto&x&T^ 

?^*t*d  IT  ^  Yi^Akc^s¥$*^^  ^^a 

^$?  *  ¥j  f  ******  W  #**&  Wuc&tl/$fovSt*&  »^f^^3B 

jlfy  Ji.fy cvtttej, Kutw  Swutv, sw$£'<s M3?dk     ' 

ft&QL.  ft*     AV   \.*     +3    „  * . ,/     .  •*         Ok  ^«._ 


fe^'^^  ^ 


A>«.(fa  fY,\«  <j?/4, 


page  o/  marriage  register  of  San  Luis  Gbispo,  in  Junipero  Serra's  hand 
writing 

Page  60 


' 


Ruins  of  adobe  house  at  Saboba  that  fell  and  killed  several  Indians 

Page  61 


El  Monte  and  the  Puente  Hills,  in  the  San  Gabriel  Valley 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 
Page  75 


FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  RAMONA      61 

and  rational  mind  and  did  not  idealize  them  by  re 
fusing  to  see  evil  in  any  of  them  is  evident  in  several 
pages  of  Ramona,  especially  in  Chapter  XVIII  where 
she  tells  of  the  wicked  Indian  overseer  at  San  Gabriel, 
who  clipped  off  the  ears  of  the  renegades.  In  the 
chapter  on  San  Gabriel  is  related  B.  D.  Wilson's  account 
of  his  campaigns  against  these  renegades.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  too  stern  treatment  occasionally  drove 
some  of  the  Indians  to  desperation;  then  they  fled  to 
the  mountains,  became  outlaws  and  had  to  be  pro 
ceeded  against  as  such. 

All  Southern  California  Indians  have  a  dread  of 
earthquakes.  The  great  temblor  of  1812  which  slew 
thirty-nine  Indians  in  the  great  new  Mission  at  San 
Juan  Capistrano  was  another  reminder  of  the  instabil 
ity  of  the  ground  'and  served  to  keep  alive  their  fears. 
They  seemed  to  be  an  inheritance.  In  the  chapter 
"  Was  there  a  Real  Ramona?  "  it  will  be  recalled  that 
Dona  Victoria,  Hugo  Reid's  Indian  wife,  would  never 
go  upstairs  on  account  of  her  fears  of  earthquake. 

I  well  remember  being  at  Warner's  Ranch  after  an 
earthquake  a  few  years  ago  which  shook  down  the  wall 
of  an  adobe  house  in  Saboba  and  killed  several  Indians. 
In  all  my  conversations  with  the  Indians  they  would 
not  come  into  the  adobe  school-house.  They  were 
afraid.  It  had  been  somewhat  shaken.  They  dreaded 
sending  their  children  to  school,  lest  another  temblor 
should  come  and  tumble  the  heavy  bricks  and  the  roof 
down  upon  their  boys  and  girls  to  their  injury  or  death. 

The  Hot  Springs  referred  to  in  Chapter  XXII  are 


62    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

existent  not  far  from  San  Jacinto.  Of  late  years  they 
have  become  very  popular  amongst  the  whites,  as 
also  have  many  other  similar  springs.  There  are  those 
at  Arrowhead,  Palm  Springs,  Elsinore,  and  Warner's 
Ranch,  and  these  are  but  few  of  the  many  that  used  to 
be  prized  by  the  Indians  of  Ramona's  country  for  the 
benefit  they  were  to  them  when  sick  or  diseased. 

Mrs.  Jackson's  keen  observation  is  revealed  in  many 
pages  of  Ramona,  and  in  Chapter  XXV  is  another  illus 
tration  of  it.  As  Aunt  Ri  and  Felipe  go  up  to  see  the 
sick  Ramona  at  Cahuilla  they  pass  many  pines  on  Mt. 
San  Jacinto  and  "  on  many  of  them  the  bark  had  been 
riddled  from  root  to  top,  as  by  myriads  of  bullet-holes. 
In  each  hole  had  been  cunningly  stored  away  an  acorn, 
—  the  woodpecker's  granaries."  To  thousands  of 
visitors  to  Southern  California  this  is  an  interesting 
sight,  for  it  is  by  no  means  uncommon  to  see  these 
acorn-filled  trees  wherever  pines  abound. 

The  "  old  man  "  or  wild  wormwood  used  by  Aunt  Ri 
(Chapter  XXV)  to  restore  Ramona  to  health  is  very 
abundant  in  Southern  California.  It  resembles  what  in 
the  East  is  called  southernwood,  but  has  a  different  odor. 

When  all  that  I  have  written  above  in  this  chapter 
is  considered,  in  connection  with  other  chapters  dealing 
with  the  facts  used  in  the  story,  I  think  the  ingenuous 
mind  will  readily  concede  that  Ramona  is  a  story 
largely  of  fact,  though  its  hero  and  heroine  are  fiction, 
and  that  in  the  larger  truth  which  lies  behind  all 
human  life  it  can  truthfully  be  said  that  Ramona, 
though  a  work  of  fiction,  is  a  work  of  essential  truth. 


CHAPTER  III 

WAS   THERE    A    REAL    RAMONA? 

MUCH  has  been  written  about  "'The  Real 
Ramona."  As  well  write  about  the  real 
Dombey,  the  real  Becky  Sharp,  the  real  Pendennis. 
It  cannot  be  too  plainly  stated  that  there  is  no  real 
Ramona.  The  book  is  a  fiction  and  every  character 
in  it  is  fictitious.  It  is  throughout  a  creature  of  Mrs. 
Jackson's  imagination.  That  certain  living  people 
suggested  certain  characters  of  the  book  is  true,  as  I 
have  shown  elsewhere,  but  in  the  case  of  the  heroine, 
Ramona,  a  score  of  isolated  and  unconnected  incidents 
in  the  lives  of  a  score  of  different  individuals  are 
brought  together,  and  all  attributed  to  the  one  ficti 
tious  character,  Ramona.  How  then  shall  one  say: 
This  is  the  real  Ramona;  or,  here  the  real  Ramona 
lived,  here  met  Alessandro;  here  Alessandro  declared 
his  love;  here  is  the  canyon  in  which  they  stayed  after 
their  elopement;  here  they  were  married;  these  are 
the  bells  that  were  rung  at  the  wedding,  etc. 

There  are  scores  of  facts  woven  into  the  book;  the 
descriptions  are  most  lifelike,  real,  and  true;  yet, 
taken  as  a  whole,  the  book  is  purely  and  simply  a 
novel,  a  work  of  fiction,  a  creation  of  the  imagination. 


64    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

And  there  is  no  reason  for  anyone  misleading  people 
with  the  assurance  that  some  one  definite  person 
was  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Jackson  when  she  pictured 
Ramona. 

Mr.  Cave  J.  Couts  assures  me  that  he  is  satisfied 
the  suggestion  of  the  character  came  from  an  Indian 
girl  once  in  the  employ  of  his  mother.  Her  name 
was  Matutini,  and  she  was  a  girl  of  strikingly  beautiful 
features,  form  and  mien.  Mrs.  Jackson  was  attracted 
by  her  appearance  when  she  visited  Guajome.  Later 
this  girl  ran  away  into  the  mountains  with  an  Indian, 
and  Mrs.  Jackson  was  much  interested  when  she 
learned  the  fact.  The  power  of  the  girl's  love  to  lead 
her  to  elope  and  gladly  return  to  the  wild  life  of  the 
hills,  after  she  had  been  used  to  the  comforts  and 
ease  of  civilization,  impressed  her  profoundly.  Had 
the  girl  always  lived  among  her  own  people  in  their 
rude  and  primitive  manner  there  would  have  been 
nothing  strange  in  her  going  off  with  one  of  her  own 
kind  and  living  with  him.  But  after  one  has  learned 
to  depend  upon  certain  things, —  to  sleep  in  a  com 
fortable  bed,  to  have  good  food,  well  prepared,  to  have, 
in  fact,  all  the  ordinary  comforts  of  a  civilized  home, 
it  seemed  to  Mrs.  Jackson  that  the  primitive  instinct 
of  love  was  exceedingly  powerful  to  lead  a  girl  to 
abandon  them. 

This  fact  is  made  one  of  the  most  dramatic  features 
of  the  novel.  Ramona,  used  to  all  the  refinements 
of  the  Moreno  household,  totally  unfamiliar  with  the 
rude  and  rough  life  of  the  Indian,  was  yet  ready  at 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  kAMONA  65 

the  call  of  love,  to  yield  up  all  her  past  life,  her  love 
of  ease  and  comfort,  and  go  with  her  Indian  lover  into 
his  life  of  rudeness  and  discomfort.  Only  a  woman 
who  herself  had  felt  the  potency  of  this  magic  force 
could  have  pictured  it  so  vividly  in  others. 

There  has  been  another  story  current  for  some  years 
in  Southern  California  that  connects  the  daughter  of 
one  of  the  "  best  families  "  with  the  "  real  Ramona." 
The  story  is  to  the  effect  that  this  young  lady,  trained 
in  the  finest  schools,  of  refined  parents,  whose  social 
position  was  of  the  highest,  became  enamoured  of  a 
handsome  young  Indian  occasionally  employed  on  her 
father's  ranch.  He  prevailed  upon  her  to  elope  with 
him  to  the  mountains.  The  irate  parent  followed, 
shot  down  the  seducer,  and  brought  his  daughter  back 
home.  In  due  time  her  escapade  was  forgotten;  the 
girl  happily  married  and  became  the  mother  of  a 
beautiful  family. 

I  am  afraid,  however,  that  this  is  another  romance, — 
another  fiction.  Anyhow,  whenever  I  have  tried  to 
locate  the  ranch  and  the  persons,  they  have  eluded  me 
like  the  moving  and  retreating  figures  of  a  dream.  It 
is  possible  that  the  story  originated  after  Ramona  was 
written,  as  the  attempt  of  some  pretentious  inventor  to 
account  for  the  chief  characters  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  novel. 

In  the  Introduction  I  have  already  quoted  "  Susan 
Coolidge's"  statement  about  the  Rossetti  heads  "H.H." 
had  on  her  desk,  but  it  will  do  no  harm  to  requote  it  here : 

"  On  her  desk  that  winter  stood  an  unframed  photo 
graph  after  Dante  Rossetti, —  two  heads,  a  man's  and 


66         THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

a  woman's,  set  in  a  nimbus  of  cloud,  with  a  strange 
beautiful  regard  and  meaning  in  their  eyes.  They 
were  exactly  her  idea  of  what  Ramona  and  Alessandro 
looked  like,  she  said.  The  characters  of  the  novel 
never,  I  think,  came  so  near  to  materialization  in  her 
eyes  as  in  this  photograph.  It  was  a  purely  ideal  story." 
It  is  more  than  probable  that  when  she  decided  to 
make  her  fictitious  Rarnona  the  daughter  of  a  Scotch 
man,  with  an  Indian  mother,  Mrs.  Jackson  had  in 
mind  certain  facts  pertaining  to  the  life  of  a  well- 
known  Scotchman,  Hugo  Reid,  who  lived  for  many 
years  at  San  Gabriel.  He  was  a  native  of  Cardross, 
Scotland,  who  spent  six  years  in  Mexico,  and  there 
had  some  unfortunate  love  affair  which  changed  the 
tenor  of  his  whole  life.  In  1834,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  he  came  to  Los  Angeles  and  became  a  merchant 
in  company  with  William  Keith  and  Jacob  P.  Leese. 
In  1839,  he  took  out  papers  as  a  naturalized  Mexican 
citizen,  having  already  married  a  well-known  San 
Gabriel  Indian  woman  of  wealth  and  character,  called 
Dona  Victoria,  by  whom  he  had  three  children.  As 
these  children  were  born  before  he  was  naturalized, 
he  must  have  consoled  himself  speedily  after  his  arrival 
by  wedding  the  Indian.  One  of  these  children  was  a 
daughter,  long  and  far-famed  on  account  of  her  intel 
ligence  and  beauty.  She  was  named  Ignacia,  which, 
in  the  endearing  diminutive  of  the  Spanish,  became 
"  Nacha  "  or  "  Nachita."  The  circumstances  of  her 
life  and  that  of  her  parents  were  so  interesting  that 
Don  Antonio  Coronel  told  Mrs.  Jackson  all  about 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA  67 

them,  so  that  it  is  said  she  planned  to  write  another 
story,  along  somewhat  the  same  lines  as  Ramona, 
naming  it  Nacha. 

Don  Hugo  was  a  quiet,  unassuming  gentleman  of 
literary  taste,  who  devoted  much  time  to  a  study  of  the 
language,  history,  customs,  and  legends  of  the  Cahuilla 
Indians.  He  wrote  extensively  upon  this  subject, 
doubtless  gaining  most  of  his  information  from  his  wife. 
These  essays  were  published  long  ago  in  the  Los 
A  ngeles  Star  and  have  since  been  used  by  many  writers 
upon  the  Indians. 

To  many  it  was  a  sign  of  eccentricity  that  so  cultured 
a  man  should  have  married  an  Indian  woman,  but  all 
who  remember  Dona  Victoria  speak  of  her  as  a 
queenly  woman  of  distinguished  manners,  noble  char 
acter  and  charming  personality. 

She  was  brought  up  at  the  old  Mission  of  San  Gabriel ; 
was  a  neophyte  trained  by  the  padres  and  was  taught 
domestic  arts  by  Eulalia  Perez  de  Guillen,  who  for 
many  years  had  charge  of  the  education  of  all  the 
maidens  at  the  Mission.  Padre  Zalvidea  was  a  mar 
tinet  of  the  first  order,  and  every  girl  under  his  pa 
rental  care  was  required  to  learn  not  only  the  catechism 
and  those  things  that  were  supposed  to  be  good  for 
the  soul,  but  how  to  cook,  weave,  sew,  keep  house, 
darn,  knit,  mend,  patch,  care  for  children,  and  do  all 
the  necessary  and  practical  things  required  of  a  good 
housekeeper.  Being  a  girl  of  quick  intuitions,  learning 
readily,  having  a  natural  aptitude  for  housekeeping, 
born  with  a  love  of  order  and  inheriting  artistic  and 


68    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

poetic  instincts  from  her  parents,  she  developed  into  a 
remarkable  young  woman. 

It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  she  captivated  such 
a  man  as  Hugo  Reid.  His  natural  instincts,  his 
poetic  nature,  his  revulsion  from  women  of  his  own 
race,  all  helped  to  render  him  peculiarly  susceptible 
to  her  unusual  personality. 

That  she  was  a  woman  of  force  and  influence  is  evi 
denced  by  the  fact  that  in  1838  she  received  a  grant 
of  the  Huerta  (garden)  de  Cuati  Rancho  (one  hundred 
and  twenty-eight  and  one  fourth  acres)  which  she 
afterwards  sold  to  D.  B.  Wilson.  It  became  known 
as  the  Lake  Vineyard  property,  and  was  ultimately 
connected  with  the  early  history  of  Pasadena.  Her 
husband,  Don  Hugo,  as  he  was  generally  called,  set 
tled  upon  the  Santa  Anita  Rancho  (now  Lucky  Bald 
win's)  soon  after  his  naturalization,  and  in  1841-1845 
it  was  granted  to  him  by  the  Mexican  government. 
Thus  the  two  were  great  landowners,  for  the  Santa 
Anita  comprised  many  thousands  of  acres  and  was  a 
lordly  estate.  He  was  also  a  ship  captain,  possibly 
chartering  vessels  for  his  firm's  own  business.  In 
May,  1842,  his  schooner,  the  Esmeralda,  of  ninety- two 
tons  burden,  was  at  San  Pedro,  and  in  September  paid 
duties  to  the  amount  of  one  thousand  three  hundred 
and  five  dollars  at  Monterey  on  a  cargo  he  had  brought 
from  Honolulu.  Laura  Bvertson  King  says  he  brought 
home  to  his  family,  on  these  trips,  "  fine  and  beautiful 
things,  strings  of  pearls,  diamonds,  silks,  embroidered 
shawls  and  sweets."  She  also  knew  Dona  Victoria 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA  69 

well,  and  writes  lovingly  and  appreciatively  of  her  in 
the  papers  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Southern 
California.  Victoria  had  lost  her  own  sweet  daughter, 
Nacha,  the  year  before,  and  Laura  being  the  first  white 
child  to  come  into  her  world  after  the  bereavement, 
she  took  her  fully  into  her  heart.  The  child  was  wel 
comed  as  only  a  mother's  heart  longing  to  pour  out  its 
restrained  wealth  of  love  could  welcome,  and  if  the 
little  Laura  stayed  away  for  a  single  day  an  Indian 
servant  was  sent  over  to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  the 
detention.  Nacha  had  been  well  educated,  her 
scholarly  father  teaching  her  to  speak  English,  French 
and  Spanish  with  equal  fluency.  Traditions  of  her 
wonderful  beauty  remain  among  the  old  Spanish 
people  even  to  this  day,  and  of  the  deep  grief  expressed 
on  every  hand  at  her  untimely  death.  Poor  Victoria 
felt  that  super-education  doubtless  was  largely  respon 
sible  for  her  daughter's  death,  and  she  would  never  allow 
the  little  Laura  to  remain  long  with  her  husband's 
books  and  papers.  For  the  girl  visitor  loved  to  revel 
in  these,  especially  when  there  were  pictures  in  them. 
She  says:  "  It  was  in  the  garret  of  Hugo  Reid's  home 
that  I  saw  my  first  English  periodicals.  Seated  on 
the  floor,  with  London  Punches  strewn  around,  the  great 
rough-hewn  beams  overhead  strung  with  ropes  of  pin- 
tones  and  coras  (baskets)  filled  with  dried  fruit,  I 
whiled  away  the  long  spring  afternoon,  regardless  of 
the  outside  world,  until  aroused  from  my  books  by 
Dona  Victoria  calling  me  to  come  down  from  among 
the  spiders  and  sup  with  her.  Descending,  I  found 


70    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

her  seated  on  the  ground  just  outside  the  corridor 
of  the  house,  directing  her  Indian  servant  to  make 
tortillas.  Seated  before  a  small  fire,  dressed  in  a  costly 
gown  of  black  satin,  with  an  embroidered  shawl  of  crepe 
around  her  shapely  shoulders,  daintily  taking  the 
broiled  beef  in  her  fingers,  she  gave  me  a  lesson  in 
Indian  etiquette.  Not  all  the  dainty  dishes  of  a  king's 
banquet  could  equal  the  unforgotten  flavor  of  that 
simple  supper.  While  eating,  she  told  me  stories  and 
gave  me  rules  for  social  life,  the  principles  of  which 
might  well  be  engrafted  upon  the  rules  of  social  life 
to-day."  "  Generous  to  a  fault,  she  would  have 
loaded  me  with  her  daughter's  jewelry.  .  .  .  With 
mind  like  a  child  and  manners  like  a  queen,  she  deemed 
it  a  waste  of  life  to  learn  from  books  what  she  had  already 
learned  from  nature.  She  always  said  that  her  pos 
sessions  were  more  than  her  husband's,  and  she  knew 
nothing  about  letters." 

Don  Hugo's  house  was  built  of  adobe  with  walls 
four  feet  thick.  Clapboards  hauled  from  San  Ber 
nardino  covered  the  roof.  "  But  Dona  Victoria  never 
climbed  the  stairs;  dread  of  earthquake  always  kept 
her  on  the  ground  floor."  In  1855  her  house  was 
ruined  by  an  earthquake. 

Another  of  Victoria's  aversions  was  an  American 
team  of  horses  and  a  carriage.  Horses  ran  away  and 
were  unsafe.  But  give  her  a  carreta  drawn  by  oxen 
and  she  was  safe.  Yet  "  one  bright  spring  day," 
writes  Miss  King,  "  as  we  were  crawling  along  over  the 
road  from  Los  Angeles  in  her  carreta,  her  bueys  (oxen), 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA  71 

feeling  spring  in  the  air,  put  spring  in  their  heels  and 
gamboled  indiscreetly  and  indiscriminately  over  the 
undulating  plains,  to  the  disquiet  and  disgust  of  the 
naked  Indian  driver,  who  was  left  far  in  the  rear. 
Thus  she,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us,  lived  to  see  one  of 
her  convictions  upset." 

What  a  picture  of  the  land  in  Ramona's  own  day. 
Who  cannot  see  the  old  carreta,  with  its  lady  passengers 
and  naked  driver,  the  slow,  rolling  walk  of  the  oxen. 
Conversation  is  being  carried  on  to  the  accompani 
ment  of  the  squeaking  and  rubbing  of  the  clumsy 
wheels.  There  are  no  railways,  no  trolley  cars.  The 
"  old  adobe  road  "  is  as  dull  and  quiet  and  sleepy,  all 
along  its  winding  way  through  the  Mission  Hills,  as 
now  it  is  active  and  hustling  and  noisy  with  modern 
electric  traffic.  Suddenly,  however,  the  oxen  make 
a  turn  in  the  road  and  see  a  larger  expanse  of  green 
fields,  rich  with  the  nourishment  of  a  good  rain. 
Something  in  the  scene,  in  the  air,  quickens  them  and 
fills  them  with  excitement.  What  is  it?  Before  the 
Indian  driver  can  prevent,  they  begin  to  frisk,  frolic, 
and  gambol,  throw  up  their  heels,  elevate  their  tails, 
and  proudly  lift  their  heads.  Then,  with  a  bellow 
and  a  roar,  they  forget  they  are  staid  oxen,  dragging 
a  carreta  in  which  sits  a  dignified  old  lady  and  a  light- 
hearted  girl,  and  off  they  dash,  with  electricity  in  their 
blood,  seeking  in  this  wild  rampage  to  express  their 
appreciation  of  the  fact  that  "  spring  is  come."  Poor 
Dona  Victoria!  It  was  too  bad  to  upset  her  and  her 
pet  conviction. 


72    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Hugo  Reid  died  in  1852,  having  served  the  State  well 
in  the  Constitutional  Convention  as  a  representative 
from  the  Los  Angeles  district.  His  library  was  scat 
tered  and  soon  thereafter  his  fortune  went,  for  "  the 
guardian  he  had  selected  for  his  wife  proved  dishonest 
and  she  was  robbed;  even  her  personal  ornaments  were 
taken  from  her.  I  saw  her  for  the  last  time  in  1863, 
when,  attended  by  one  faithful  servant,  she  came  to 
see  her  Lalita.  Instead  of  her  satins  and  silks,  she 
wore  a  dress  of  common  print,  and  a  quilt  covered  her 
shoulders  in  place  of  her  crepe  shawl.  But  she  was 
the  same  grand,  proud,  cheerful  woman.  She  would 
accept  no  favors,  only  wanted  to  see  and  embrace  me 
once  more.  I  never  saw  her  again.  She  fell  a  victim 
of  that  dreaded  disease,  smallpox.  So  passed  from  my 
life  one  upon  whom  could  be  written  pages  of  praise 
for  the  grandest  and  most  self-sacrificing  life  I  ever 
knew!  "  Thus  wrote  Miss  King  in  concluding  the 
article  before  referred  to. 

William  Heath  Davis,  who  wrote  Sixty  Years  in 
California,  once  spent  some  weeks  at  Reid's  house, 
and  he  is  authority  for  the  story  that  Reid  was  a 
jilted  man.  "  He  left  the  country  in  disgust,  vowing 
he  would  marry  some  one  of  the  same  name  as  she  who 
had  slighted  him,  even  though  an  Indian.  He  came 
to  California  and  fell  in  with  a  woman  of  pure  Indian 
blood,  named  Victoria,  the  name  of  his  former  love, 
and  married  her.  Upon  our  visit  at  Reid's  house,  we 
found  that  they  were  living  very  happily  together. 
We  were  surprised  and  delighted  with  the  excellence 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA  73 

and  neatness  of  the  housekeeping  of  the  Indian  wife, 
which  could  not  have  been  excelled.  The  beds  which 
were  furnished  us  to  sleep  in  were  exquisitely  neat,  with 
coverlids  of  satin,  the  sheets  and  pillow  cases  trimmed 
with  lace  and  highly  ornamented." 

Whence  did  Mrs.  Jackson  get  the  name  Ramona? 
There  have  been  several  answers  given  to  the  question. 
Dr.  H.  A.  Reid,  the  historian  of  Pasadena,  claims  that 
when  Mrs.  Jackson  made  her  trip  as  Special  Indian 
Commissioner  with  Abbott  Kinney,  she  stopped  four 
days  at  Temecula,  at  the  ranch  house  of  Mrs.  Ramona 
Wolfe,who  is  immortalized  in  the  novel  under  the  name 
Hartsel.  He  also  wrote:  Mrs.  Wolfe  "  was  a  bright, 
intelligent,  warm-hearted  half-breed  woman,  who 
could  speak  readily  in  either  the  English,  Spanish  or 
Indian  languages.  Mrs.  Jackson  became  very  muchv 
interested  in  this  woman;  conceived  a  warm,  sym 
pathetic  attachment  for  her;  and  she  was  the  genuine 
1  original  '  of  the  description  of  personal  appearance 
and  general  characteristics  of  the  romantic  heroine, 
Ramona." 

In  the  chapter  on  the  Facts  and  Fictions  of  Ramona 
a  full  description  of  her  husband's  store  is  given. 

In  May,  1903,  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Wolfe,  Minetta, 
appeared  in  the  police  court  of  Los  Angeles  and  re 
vealed  a  sad  tragedy  in  her  own  life.  She  was  there  to 
prosecute  Roy  Z.  Smith,  said  to  be  the  wayward  son  of 
a  prominent  Los  Angeles  family,  who  had  betrayed  her 
and  robbed  her  of  her  money  as  well.  Two  years  and  a 
half  before,  when  Minetta  was  about  eighteen  years 


74    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

old,  and  as  innocent  and  unsophisticated  as  a  girl 
brought  up  in  the  seclusion  of  a  country  house  could 
be,  she  and  Smith  had  met.  The  young  man  was 
flashily  dressed,  bold,  and  physically  attractive  enough 
to  dazzle  a  young  girl  like  Minetta.  She  fell  in  love 
with  him.  He  took  a  base  advantage  of  her,  and  under 
promise  of  marriage  (the  date,  even,  being  set)  induced 
her  to  mortgage  the  property  made  memorable  in  the 
story  of  Ramona  for  five  hundred  dollars.  Prior  to 
this  time  she  had  earned  and  saved  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  as  a  nurse,  and  this  amount  and  the 
five  hundred  dollars  she  placed  in  Smith's  hands  to 
enable  him  to  purchase  a  saloon  and  start  in  business. 
In  March,  IQOI,  he  skipped  out  for  parts  unknown 
and,  though  a  warrant  was  sworn  out  for  his  arrest,  he 
was  not  found  until  May,  1903.  When  the  case  came 
to  trial  it  was  thrown  out  on  account  of  some  techni 
cality. 

Miss  Anna  Picher,  who  has.  done  so  much  to  eluci 
date  matters  in  connection  with  early-day  history  in 
Southern  California,  says  that  the  first  time  Mrs. 
Jackson  heard  the  name  Ramona  was  while  visiting  the 
home  of  Hon.  J.  De  Barth  Shorb  at  San  Marino, 
near  Pasadena.  Mr.  Shorb's  baby  daughter  bore 
the  name,  after  her  grandmother,  Dona  Ramona 
Yorba  de  Wilson.  When  the  child  was  brought  into 
the  room,  some  one  spoke  to  her  and  used  her  name. 
The  liquid  sounds  caught  Mrs.  Jackson's  ear  and  she 
remarked:  "That  is  a  pretty  name.  Please  say  it 
again."  As  she  went  home  she  kept  repeating  it,  as 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  RAMONA  75 

one  does  a  catching  strain  of  music.  It  is  by  no  means 
an  uncommon  Spanish  name,  many  girls  bearing  it. 
It  is  the  feminine  form  of  Ramon. 

Dr.  Reid,  however,  claims  that  it  was  after  she 
became  familiar  with  Mrs.  Ramona  Wolfe  that  Mrs. 
Jackson  visited  San  Marino.  This  beautiful  home 
place  is  now  known  as  Oak  Knoll,  not  far  from  the  new 
Wentworth  Hotel.  It  is  a  bluff  from  which  one  gains 
a  most  beautiful  and  extensive  view  of  the  San  Gabriel 
Valley,  and  the  old  Mission  of  that  name. 


CHAPTER  IV 

WAS  THERE  A  REAL  ALESSANDRO? 

T?XACTL,Y  the  same  answer  must  be  given  to  the 
•*-'  question  that  heads  this  chapter  as  to  the  one  I  have 
tried  to  answer  in  the  preceding  chapter  about  Ramona. 
Susan  Coolidge's  words  tell  of  the  ideal  heads  which 
Mrs.  Jackson  ever  kept  before  her.  This  fact  and 
remarks  the  gifted  author  made  to  her  friends  render 
it  certain  that  the  character  was  purely  fictitious. 
Deceived,  however,  by  the  booklet  entitled,  The 
Real  Ramona,  a 'writer,  otherwise  generally  careful, 
in  Out  West,  Vol.  19,  is  misled  into  saying,  "  It  is  an 
historical  fact  that  in  October,  1877,  one  Ramon 
Corralez,  a  Saboba  Indian,  was  shot  and  killed  by 
Samuel  Temple,  for  alleged  horse  stealing.  The 
tragedy  took  place  high  up  in  the  San  Jacinto  Moun 
tains,  shut  in  by  lofty  peaks  on  all  sides,  and  having 
but  a  single  access.  This  was  doubtless  visited  by 
Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  for  her  description  of  the  spot 
to  which  the  lovers  flew  exactly  corresponds  with  the 
scene  of  the  tragedy.  It  is  now  known  as  the  Idyl- 
wild  tract,  Strawberry  Valley,  in  the  midst  of  which 
has  since  grown  up  a  much -frequented  summer  resort. 
"  The  slayer  of  Ramon  still  lives  at  the  foot  of  the 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  ALESSANDRO        77 

mountain,  more  or  less  shunned  by  his  neighbors 
because  of  the  still  popular  belief  that  his  victim  was 
in  the  deplorable  mental  condition  described  by  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson,  when,  as  "  Alessandro,"  he  was  found 
in  possession  of  the  white  man's  horse.  There  was 
also  current  at  the  time  a  legend  connecting  the  same 
Ramon  Corralez  with  a  romantic  elopement  with  a 
half-breed  Indian  girl  named  Lugarda  Sandoval.  The 
young  couple  in  their  flight  are  supposed  to  have  ex 
perienced  many  of  the  painful  episodes  credited  to 
'  Ramona/  and  '  Alessandro  '  in  their  night  journeys 
over  the  mountains  to  San  Diego.  At  the  same  time, 
while  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was  engaged  upon  the 
superstructure  of  the  story  of  Ramona,  at  the  Coronel 
Ranch,  Los  Angeles  was  ringing  with  the  sensational 
infatuation  of  a  beautiful  American  girl  of  the  city 
with  a  Saboba  Indian,  whom  she  met  during  an  outing 
with  her  parents  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains.  They 
were  not  permitted  to  marry  and  did  not  elope,  but  it 
is  likely  the  incident,  in  connection  with  the  Corralez- 
Sandoval  affair,  furnished  the  inspiration  for  the 
Ramona- Alessandro  romance." 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  not  an  historical  fact  that 
Sam  Temple  shot  Ramon  Corralez.  I  knew  Sam 
Temple  well;  have  visited  at  his  house,  foregathered 
with  him  before  a  camp  fire,  spent  many  hours  with 
him  on  Mt.  San  Jacinto,  and  from  him  I  learned  his 
side  of  the  story,  which  I  give  in  full  in  the  chapter 
devoted  to  that  individual.  It  is  directly  contrary  to 
the  statement  of  the  Out  West  writer. 


78    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

In  the  second  place,  the  tragedy  did  not  occur  "high 
up  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains,  shut  in  by  lofty 
peaks  on  all  sides,  and  having  but  a  single  access." 
As  elsewhere  described  in  these  pages,  it  is  a  pictur 
esque  little  spot  in  the  Cahuilla  Range,  an  offshoot 
from  the  main  range  of  San  Jacinto,  and  with  no  lofty 
peaks  anywhere  near  it  for  several  miles. 

Thirdly:  It  was  never  visited  by  Mrs.  Jackson, 
and  her  descriptions  of  it  are  very  crude  and  inaccurate, 
given  to  her  originally  by  those  who  had  not  yet 
visited  it.  There  is  some  similarity  between  the 
descriptions  of  Idylwild  or  Strawberry  Valley,  but 
the  location  of  the  killing  of  Juan  Diego  by  Sam 
Temple,  as  quoted  later  in  this  chapter  from  Mrs. 
Jackson's  own  pen,  is  many  miles  from  Idylwild. 

The  gifted  author's  own  words  forever  demolish  the 
'"  Corralez  "  fiction.  In  the  appendix  to  her  Report 
an  the  Condition  of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California, 
written  by  her  own  pen,  she  tells  the  true  story  of 
where  the  shooting  incident  of  her  novel  occurred. 
It  was  first  of  all  told  to  her  by  Miss  Sheriff,  who  for 
many  years  was  teacher  at  the  Indian  school  at  Saboba. 
Here  is  the  statement  copied  verbatim  from  the  report: 

"  A  Cahuilla  Indian  named  Juan  Diego  had  built 
for  himself  a  house,  and  cultivated  a  small  patch  of 
ground  on  a  high  mountain  ledge  a  few  miles  north  of 
the  village.  Here  he  lived  alone  with  his  wife  and  baby. 
He  had  been  for  some  years  what  the  Indians  call 
a  '  locoed  '  Indian,  being  at  times  crazy;  never  dan 
gerous,  but  yet  certainly  insane  for  longer  or  shorter 


Hotel  at  Idylwild,  Strawberry  Valley,  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains 

Page  78 


Indian  homes  on  the  Pachanga  Reservation 

Page  92 


The  Inner  Veranda  at  Guajome 

Page  95 


The  Grape  Arbor  at  Guajome 

Page  95 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  ALESSANDRO        79 

periods.  His  condition  was  known  to  the  agent,  who 
told  us  that  he  feared  he  would  be  obliged  to  shut  him 
up  if  he  did  not  get  better.  It  was  also  well  known 
throughout  the  neighboring  country,  as  we  found  on 
repeated  inquiry.  Everybody  knew  that  Juan  Diego 
was  '  locoed.'  (This  expression  comes  from  the 
effect  a  weed  of  that  name  has  upon  horses,  making 
them  wild  and  unmanageable.)  Juan  Diego  had  been 
off  to  find  work  at  sheep-shearing.  He  came  home  at 
night  riding  a  strange  horse.  His  wife  exclaimed, 
'  Why,  whose  horse  is  that?  '  Juan  looked  at  his 
horse,  and  replied  confusedly,  '  Where  is  my  horse, 
then?'  The  woman,  much  frightened,  said,  'You 
must  take  that  horse  right  back;  they  will  say  you 
stole  it.'  Juan  replied  that  he  would  as  soon  as  he 
had  rested;  threw  himself  down  and  fell  asleep.  From 
this  sleep  he  was  awakened  by  the  barking  of  dogs, 
and  ran  out  of  the  house  to  see  what  it  meant.  The 
woman  followed, and  was  the  only  witness  of  what  then 
occurred.  A  white  man,  named  Temple,  the  owner  of 
the  horse  which  Juan  had  ridden  home,  rode  up,  and 
on  seeing  Juan  poured  out  a  volley  of  oaths,  levelled 
his  gun  and  shot  him  dead.  After  Juan  had  fallen 
on  the  ground,  Temple  rode  closer  and  fired  three  more 
shots  into  the  body,  one  in  the  forehead,  one  in  the  cheek, 
and  one  in  the  wrist,  the  woman  looking  on.  He 
then  took  his  horse,  which  was  standing  tied  in  front 
of  the  house,  and  rode  away.  The  woman,  with  her 
baby  on  her  back,  ran  to  the  Cahuilla  village,  and  told 
what  had  happened.  This  was  in  the  night.  At 


80    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

dawn  the  Indians  went  over  to  the  place,  brought  the 
murdered  man's  body  to  the  village,  and  buried  it. 
The  excitement  wras  intense.  The  teacher,  in  giving 
us  an  account  of  the  affair,  said  that  for  a  few  days 
she  feared  she  would  be  obliged  to  close  her  school 
and  leave  the  village.  The  murderer  went  to  the  near 
est  justice  of  the  peace  and  gave  himself  up,  saying 
that  he  had  in  self-defence  shot  an  Indian.  He  swore 
that  the  Indian  ran  towards  him  with  a  knife.  A 
jury  of  twelve  men  was  summoned,  who  visited  the 
spot,  listened  to  Temple's  story,  pronounced  him 
guiltless,  and  the  judge  so  decided.  The  woman's 
testimony  was  not  taken.  It  would  have  been  worth 
less  if  it  had  been,  so  far  as  influencing  that  jury's 
minds  was  concerned.  Her  statement  was  positive 
that  Juan  had  no  knife,  no  weapon  of  any  kind ;  sprang 
up  from  his  sleep  and  ran  out  hastily  to  see  what  had 
happened,  and  was  shot  almost  as  soon  as  he  had 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  door.  The  district 
attorney  in  San  Diego,  on  being  informed  by  us  of  the 
facts  in  the  case,  reluctantly  admitted  that  there  would 
be  no  use  whatever  in  bringing  a  white  man  to  trial 
for  murder  of  an  Indian  under  such  circumstances, 
with  only  Indian  testimony  to  convict  him.  This 
was  corroborated,  and  the  general  animus  of  public 
feeling  vividly  illustrated  to  us  by  a  conversation  we 
had  later  with  one  of  the  jurors  in  the  case,  a  fine, 
open-hearted,  manly  young  fellow,  far  superior  in  edu 
cation  and  social  standing  to  the  average  Southern 
California  ranchman.  He  not  only  justified  Temple's 


WAS  THERE  A  REAL  ALESSANDRO        81 

killing  the  Indian  but  said  he  would  have  done  the  same 
thing  himself.  '  I  don't  care  whether  the  Indian  had 
a  knife  or  not,'  he  said;  '  that  didn't  cut  any  figure 
at  all  the  way  I  looked  at  it.  Any  man  that  'd  take  a 
horse  of  mine  and  ride  up  that  mountain  trail,  I  'd 
shoot  him  whenever  I  found  him.  Stockmen  have 
just  got  to  protect  themselves  in  this  country.'  The 
fact  that  Juan  had  left  his  own  horse,  a  well-known  one, 
in  the  corral  from  which  he  had  taken  Temple's;  that 
he  had  ridden  the  straight  trail  to  his  own  door,  and 
left  the  horse  tied  in  front  of  it,  thus  making  it 
certain  that  he  would  be  tracked  and  caught,  weighed 
nothing  in  this  young  man's  mind.  The  utmost 
concession  that  he  would  make  was  finally  to  say, 
"Well,  I'll  agree  that  Temple  was  to  blame  for  firm' 
into  him  after  he  was  dead.  That  was  mean,  I'll 
allow.'" 

As  to  the  name  Alessandro.  It  has  been  suggested 
that  Mrs.  Jackson's  unfamiliarity  with  Spanish  led 
her  to  use  an  Italian  form  of  the  name  instead  of  the 
Spanish,  which  is  Alejandro.  This  seems  a  pity  to 
those  familiar  with  the  Spanish,  and  who  know  how 
to  give  the  soft  and  beautiful  liquid  sounds  to  the 
name,  which,  to  the  Anglo-Saxon,  ignorant  of  Spanish, 
seems  an  awkward  one  to  pronounce.  It  is  more  than 
probable,  however,  that  knowing  she  was  writing  for 
a  large  class  who  were  not,  and  could  not  be  expected 
to  be  familiar  with  Spanish  pronunciations,  and  not 
wishing  them  to  make  clumsy  attempts,  or  glib 
and  incorrect  "  successes,"  she  deliberately  spelled 


82    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  name  in  the  way  it  is  found,  in  order  to  indicate 
the  pronunciation  she  desired. 

The  creations  of  an  enthusiastic  author's  brain  are 
essentially  dear  to  her,  even  as  are  children  born  to  a 
loving  mother.  Relatives  and  friends  do  not  like  to 
hear  familiar  names  of  their  dear  ones  bungled  or  mis 
pronounced.  With  foresight  Mrs.  Jackson  provided 
for  this  difficulty  by  avoiding  the  Spanish  form  of  the 
name,  and  giving  to  it  a  spelling  that  could  not  be 
mispronounced. 


CHAPTER  V 

ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  OF  RAMONA  AND  ALESSANDRO 
TOO  IDEAL? 

'  I AHE  objection  is  often  raised  that  Ramona  and 
•*•  Alessandro  are  too  ideal.  Who  ever  knew  such 
characters  as  these  among  Indians?  A  writer  in  The 
Land  of  Sunshine  in  answer  to  the  cynical  and  sneering, 
"  There  couldn't  be  such  people,"  responds  "  There 
could  and  there  are.  I  myself  have  known  every 
type  in  the  book,"  and  the  editor,  Charles  F.  Lum- 
mis,  known  for  his  intimate  association  with  and  deep 
knowledge  of  the  Indian,  in  a  footnote  asserts',  "  So 
have  I."  And  to  these  testimonies  I  am  glad  to  add 
that  of  my  own.  I  have  known  many  noble  men  and 
women  among  the  Indians  during  my  associations  of 
twenty-seven  years  in  the  Southwest. 

It  does  not  require  that  people  be  of  \\hite  skin  to 
be  devoted  husbands  and  wives,  loving  parents,  honest 
in  their  relations  with  all  mankind,  full  of  self-sacrifice, 
of  elevated  personal  character,  and  with  high  and 
noble  ambitions  and  heavenly  aspirations.  Many  an 
Indian  has  lived  a  life  of  self-abnegation  and  self-denial 
for  a  highly  spiritual  reason,  or  to  attain  a  spiritual 
blessing,  and  it  ill  becomes  members  of  a  race  whose 


84    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

chief  boast  is  of  their  material  progress  to  question 
and  deny  the  reality  of  such  spiritual  manifestations 
in  the  souls  of  people  they  have  so  wantonly  abused, 
abominably  villified,  and  willingly  degraded.  In  the 
book  What  the  White  Race  May  Learn  from  the  Indian, 
I  have  given  a  faithful  statement  of  many  good  things 
in  connection  with  the  life  of  the  Indian,  and  some  of 
them  deal  with  things  of  the  spirit.  I  have  never  seen 
more  devoted  wifehood,  or  more  beautiful  mother  and 
fatherhood  than  some  of  these  Indians  have  mani 
fested.  Their  extreme  care  for  their  children,  their 
deep  anxiety  for  their  welfare,  every  person  who  has 
gone  to  secure  children  for  the  far-away  Indian  board 
ing-schools  must  have  discovered.  Loving  their  boys 
and  girls  with  a  passion  as  deep  as  it  is  hidden  from 
white  eyes;  longing  for  their  perpetual  presence; 
often  beset  with  fears  as  to  their  safety  in  schools  so  far 
away  from  them  (especially  in  the  earlier  days  of  the 
Indian  boarding-school,  before  actual  experience  had 
taught  them  that  their  children  were  sure  to  come 
back),  they  have  resolutely  set  aside  their  own  feelings 
for  the  future  welfare  of  their  loved  offspring.  And 
these  same  children,  grown  into  men  and  women,  have 
often  come  back  to  the  rude  life  of  the  hogan  or  kish, 
though  capable  of  earning  a  satisfactory  living  among 
the  whites  where  good  positions  awaited  them,  and 
have  remained  "  on  the  reservation  "  -  lapsed  back 
into  their  original  savagery  and  barbarism  (as  some 
of  our  official  reports  have  it), —  purely  and  simply 
because  of  their  love  for  their  parents  and  their  refusal 


ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  TOO  IDEAL      85 

to  again  allow  them  to  suffer  by  their  long  continued 
absence.  In  this  fact  one  may  find  an  explanation, 
and  the  only  true  explanation,  of  many  so-called  lapses 
into  barbarism. 

We  so  often  hear  the  question:  Why  do  these  In 
dians  go  back  to  their  reservations  after  they  have 
been  civilized  and  educated?  And  it  never  enters 
into  our  paltry  souls  that  love  for  parents,  and  desire 
to  save  them  from  the  anguish  of  further  separation 
can  be  the  reason.  We  can  see  only  the  material  side 
of  the  question,  —  the  financial  disadvantages,  the 
discomfort,  the  squalor,  the  filth.  Yet  these  young 
men  and  women,  who  feel  the  pinch  of  these  things 
as  much  as  we  do,  gladly  suffer  the  deprivation 
for  a  motive  as  pure  and  elevated  as  that  which 
leads  a  nun  and  a  monk  into  their  life  of  retirement 
from  the  world;  a  sister  of  charity  to  give  up  her  life 
to  the  poor  and  suffering;  or  a  maiden  to  send  away 
her  lover  that  she  may  devote  her  life  to  a  sick 
parent. 

Then,  too,  I  know  of  Indians  to  whom  the  sacrificing 
of  friendship  for  money  or  for  any  material  good  would 
be  absolutely  impossible.  A  friendship  might  be  be 
trayed  in  some  special  case  of  love  —  for  Indians  are 
as  human  as  any  other  race  —  but  for  a  material  or 
financial  benefit  I  feel  safe  in  asserting  that  fifty 
white  men  could  be  found  who  have  betrayed  a 
friendship  for  every  single  Indian  who  has  done  so. 
And  this  faithfulness  is  not  because  of  fear  of  conse 
quences;  it  is  a  purely  spiritual  reason, — friendship 


86    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

is  worth  so  much  more  than  money :  love  cannot  be 
bought. 

As  for  their  sweet  marital  relationships,  the  three 
stories  I  have  introduced  elsewhere  in  these  pages  will 
serve  to  demonstrate  that  pure  conjugal  affection  is 
not  confined  to  the  white  race. 

What  is  the  serenity  and  calmness  I  have  found  in 
scores  of  Indians  when  face  to  face  with  distress  and 
danger,  but  a  spiritual  quality?  It  is  not  a  daring  of 
death  that  has  come  in  moments  of  excitement,  but  a 
calm  acquiescence  in  the  possibility  of  immediate  or 
not-far-away  death.  Any  one  can  be  brave  when  the 
world  is  looking  on  and  applauding.  It  would  be  easy 
even  for  a  coward  to  ride  "  into  the  jaws  of  hell,"  with 
martial  bands  playing,  drums  beating,  comrades  cheer 
ing,  officers  urging,  and  the  world  looking  on  "  with 
wonder."  But  to  face  death  out  on  the  desert  in  a 
sandstorm;  to  be  caught  in  quicksands;  to  fall  from  a 
cliff  and  be  partially  paralyzed  where  none  would  be 
likely  to  come;  to  be  trapped  in  some  inaccessible 
canyon;  to  have  one's  boat  nearly  upset  in  a  storm, — 
these  are  experiences  to  try  a  man's  soul,  whether  he  be 
a  white  man  or  an  Indian.  And  I  have  never  yet 
found  the  latter  wanting.  When  I  say  these  things 
I  am  writing  of  that  which  I  know;  I  have  specific 
and  concrete  illustrations  and  personalities  in  my 
mind.  Hence  it  can  well  be  seen  that  I  do  not  regard 
with  equanimity  the  sneering  comments  or  the  scorn 
ful  demeanor  of  those  white  people  who  deny  the 
possession  of  such  spiritual  qualities  to  the  Indian. 


ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  TOO  IDEAL   87 

The  writer  before  quoted  says, in  answer  to  the  ques 
tion  as  to  the  characters  of  Ramona  and  Alessandro 
being  idealized: 

"  Do  you  know  of  any  novel  in  which  the  Saxon 
characters  are  not  idealized  —  even  a  novel  by  How- 
ells?  Do  you  believe  there  ever  was  a  woman  so  per 
fect  as  the  Heroine,  or  a  man  so  adorable  as  the  Hero, 
or  a  scoundrel  so  unmixed  as  the  Villain?  If  so, 
wouldn't  you  like  to  find  them?  My  humble  judg 
ment  is  that  Alessandro  and  Ramona  are  as  true  to 
life  as  any  hero  and  heroine  in  fiction." 

But  the  criticism  goes  deeper.  It  claims  that  while 
Anglo-Saxon,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  Egyptian  or 
Hindu  might  have  produced  such  characters  the 
Indian  never  did.  The  objection  is  to  the  idealized 
Indian. 

To  those  who  have  seen,  or  read  accounts  of  some 
of  the  fearful  massacres  by  Indians,  accompanied  by 
mutilations  and  atrocities  too  horrible  to  detail,  there 
may  seem  to  be  reasons  for  this  objection.  And,  to 
those  who  have  had  friends  ruthlessly  slain  by  the 
"  red  devils,"  it  may  seem  as  if  it  were  a  perfectly 
just  expression  to  say  that  "  the  only  good  Indian  is 
the  dead  Indian,"  and,  stronger  still,  to  those  whose 
loved  ones  have  fallen  beneath  the  deadly  rifle,  the 
poisoned  arrow,  or  the  barbarous  tomahawk,  that  it 
were  a  virtue  to  slay  an  Indian.  All  these  things  I 
can  clearly  see. 

Twenty-seven  years  of  experience  in  the  pioneer 
towns,  and  in  the  mountains,  deserts,  forests  and 


88    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

canyons  of  the  Pacific  Coast,  in  California,  Arizona, 
Nevada  and  New  Mexico,  where  I  was  brought  con 
stantly  into  personal  contact  with  both  "  pioneers  " 
and  Indians,  have  shown  to  me  clearly  the  truth  of 
both  sides  of  the  story.  There  are  two  sides.  The 
whites  have  been  murdered  and  terrorized  by  the 
Indians,  but,  as  a  rule,  in  the  first  instance,  the  Indians 
were  cruelly  wronged  by  the  whites.  In  self-defence, 
they  were  driven  to  warfare,  and,  not  being  so  highly 
civilized  as  ourselves,  they  warred  with  a  wild,  cun 
ning  ferocity  that  made  white  men's  blood  run  cold. 
Hence  their  extermination  seemed  a  necessity. 

But  had  they  been  properly  treated  all  the  time,  I 
am  fully  convinced  there  would  have  been  no  "  Indian 
uprisings,"  no  "  Indian  atrocities "  to  recount,  but 
the  Indians  would  have  been,  to-day,  peaceable  and 
industrious  occupants  of  the  soil. 

The  facts  are  against  any  and  all  theories  which 
deny  to  the  Indian  nobility  of  character,  high-minded- 
ness  and  ability  to  learn.  The  various  Indian  schools 
have  demonstrated  that  in  what  we  call  "  learning," 
Indian  children  are  as  apt  scholars  as  white  children; 
the  Pueblo  Indians  of  New  Mexico  are  good  farmers, 
shepherds  and  traders,  and  some  of  them  are  quite 
wealthy.  Dr.  Oronhytekha,  a  full-blooded  Indian, 
who  died  quite  recently  (1907),  was  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  orators,  keen  and  accomplished  parliamen 
tarians,  and  successful  debaters  of  America. 

Many  persons  would  deny  the  fact  that  Dr.  Oron 
hytekha  was  an  Indian,  —  he,  the  learned  and  skilful 


ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  TOO  IDEAL        89 

physician  and  surgeon,  the  financier,  the  orator,  and 
director  of  large  organizations,  having  vast  social, 
financial,  and  educative  features  to  maintain,  yet  he 
himself  always  openly  avowed  it  and  was  proud  of  the 
fact. 

A  few  years  ago  he  gave  me  an  incident  in  his  own 
life  which  showed  his  wonderful  self-control,  and  the 
superiority  of  the  man  over  many  millions  whose  skins 
are  white.  He  was  building  a  fine  house.  It  was 
nearly  completed.  Just  as  the  last  touches  were  being 
done  to  it,  it  caught  fire.  There  was  no  possibility 
of  saving  it.  While  others  ran  about  distracted, 
crying  and  helpless,  he  coolly  sat  down  before  the 
burning  building,  and,  before  the  walls  fell,  had  com 
pletely  figured  out  again  the  amount  and  kinds  of  lum 
ber  needed  for  the  purpose  of  rebuilding.  Calmness, 
philosophical  acceptance  of  the  inevitable,  resolute 
overcoming  of  difficulties,  complete  self-control !  Show 
me  a  white  man  who  could  have  done  better  under 
similar  circumstances! 

I  well  remember  a  journey  Dr.  Oronhytekha  made 
to  England  for  the  chief  of  the  Good  Templar  order. 
There  had  been  a  split  in  that  temperance  organization 
in  England,  and  Oronhytekha,  with  others,  was  sent 
to  see  if  the  breach  could  not  be  healed.  A  debate 
was  to  be  held  in  which  one  of  the  brightest  speakers 
on  the  English  platform  was  to  present  the  other  side. 
It  was  a  great  throng  that  assembled,  and  the  English 
were  sure  of  their  champion.  So  was  I  —  sure  of  his 
utter  defeat.  For,  in  his  most  suave  and  gentle 


QO    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

tones  the  doctor,  after  the  English  speaker  had  made 
his  great  effort,  asked  if  he  might  put  to  him  a  few 
questions.  He  did  so,  and  I  sat  in  wonderment  at  the 
brilliancy  and  readiness  of  the  Indian's  intellect.  In 
a  few  moments  it  was  clear  to  those  of  us  who  knew 
all  the  facts  what  he  was  about,  and  equally  clear  how 
unconscious  the  doctor's  opponent  was  of  the  ease  with 
which  he  was  giving  his  case  away.  Step  by  step  he 
was  led  along,  until  at  last  the  final  denouement 
came  and  then,  in  voice  of  dominating  power,  in  stir 
ring,  logical,  relentless  eloquence,  compelling  atten 
tion,  demanding  acquiescence,  Oronhytekha  showed 
up  the  utter  weakness  and  falsity  of  the  other  side. 
I  have  heard  the  world's  great  orators,  and  some  of 
them  in  their  most  notable  efforts,  but  I  never  heard 
anything  equal  to  this  Indian's  outburst  on  that 
occasion.  It  was  a  flawless,  matchless,  crystal  piece 
of  oratory,  pure,  true  and  convincing. 

Those  who  know  Dr.  Charles  A.  Eastman,  Ohiyesa, 
the  full-blooded  Sioux,  are  aware  that  as  a  cultured 
scholar  and  gentleman,  a  refined  Christian,  a  polished 
and  eloquent  speaker,  a  brilliant  conversationalist,  a 
vivid  writer  of  pure  English,  a  good  and  loving  husband 
and  father,  he  ranks  with  the  highest  Anglo-Saxon 
or  any  other  nationality.  Many  times  have  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  being  entertained  at  his  Amherst  (Mass.) 
home,  where  he  and  his  cultured  wife  (who  was  Miss 
Elaine  Goodale,  the  poet)  and  their  five  healthy  and 
happy  children  made  my  visits  hours  of  inestimable 
charm  and  delight. 


ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  TOO  IDEAL      91 

Dr.  Carlos  Montezuma,  an  Apache  physician,  living 
in  Chicago,  meets  the  physicians  of  that  cultured  Amer 
ican  city  on  their  own  plane,  and  loses  nothing  in  the 
comparison.  As  a  clear-headed  thinker,  a  logician 
and  student  of  affairs,  his  criticisms  of  the  United 
States  government's  policy  towards  his  race  have 
revealed  him  worthy  of  foremost  place. 

No  student  of  the  history  of  the  old  Missions  and 
Mission  Indians  of  California  can  fail  to  see  that  among 
these  aborigines  were  men  of  great  mental  capacity, 
of  wonderful  affections,  pure  emotions  and  deeply 
religious  natures.  It  does  not  necessarily  require 
culture  to  produce  true  affection  or  true  religion. 
There  may  be  a  refinement  added,  which  enhances  the 
charm  of  the  one  affected  and  makes  us  feel  the  religion 
more,  but  affection,  religion  and  refinement  may  exist, 
in  large  volume,  within  the  breast  of  the  ignorant, 
rude  and,  to  us,  dirty  savage. 

Because  we  see  so  many  dirty,  unclean  and  loath 
some  creatures  among  the  Indians  we  are  apt  to  jump 
to  the  false  conclusion  that  all  Indians  are  the  same. 
Because  some  Indians  are  lazy  and  incompetent,  they 
all  are  so.  Never  were  ideas  more  illogical  and  ill- 
based.  In  my  book  Old  Missions  of  California,  I  have 
quoted  from  one  writer  who,  in  clear  detail,  recounts 
the  actual  accomplishments  of  these  Indians.  That 
they  were  builders  the  old  ruined  Mission  structures 
attest.  That  they  were  weavers,  blacksmiths,  tailors, 
tanners, millers,  bakers,  silver-smiths,  vintagers, masons, 
stone-cutters,  soap-makers,  tile-makers,  farmers, 


92    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

herders,  basket-makers  and  carpenters  we  have  the 
most  positive  evidence.  And  they  did  their  work 
with  great  skill.  That  they  were  industrious  is  mani 
fested  from  the  labor  now  performed  by  the  remnants 
of  the  various  tribes  in  their  small  villages  at  Saboba, 
Pala,  Cahuilla,  Santa  Isabel,  Conejo,  Pauma  and  Pach- 
anga.  Most  of  the  Indians  of  Southern  California 
are  industrious,  cleanly  and  reliable.  Their  women 
make  baskets  and  pottery,  and  the  men  are  good, 
"  all-round  "  farm  hands,  as  capable  as  most  whites. 
As  I  have  shown  in  the  chapter  on  basket-makers, 
this  work  reveals  that  the  poetic,  esthetic  and  religious 
faculties  have  large  play  in  an  Indian's  soul.  It  is  an 
axiomatic  proposition  that  "  no  one  can  make  a  beau 
tiful  thing  unless  he  first  feels  and  sees  its  beauty." 
Beautiful  and  artistic  things  don't  "  happen."  We 
never  accuse  our  poets,  sculptors,  painters  and  musi 
cians  of  guessing  at  things,  of  "  discovering  "  poems, 
sculptures,  nocturnes  and  concertos.  We  stand  and 
uncover  in  the  presence  of  the  intellect,  the  soul,  that 
conceives,  imagines,  plans,  and  then  produces  such 
sublime  results. 

Shall  we  deny  to  the  Indian  the  same  honor?  the 
same  standard  of  measure?  I  have  beautiful  baskets 
in  my  possession  that  required  as  much  soul  to  con 
ceive,  mind  to  plan,  and  artistic  skill  to  create  as  did 
the  masterly  canvases  that  grace  the  walls  of  the  Cor 
coran  Art  Gallery,  or  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

The  Navaho  weaver  may  appear  a  savage,  but  she 
is  a  poet  and  an  artist,  or  she  could  never  have  created 


ARE  THE  CHARACTERS  TOO  IDEAL        93 

those  textile  marvels  that   to    this    day    surpass    the 
products  of  the  white  man's  loom. 

So  simple  honor  compels  me  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  idealized  Indian  character  is  as  real,  as  true  to  life, 
as  is  the  idealized  Anglo-Saxon  character,  and  that 
"  Ramona  "  and  "  Alessandro  "  are  no  more  impos 
sible  than  are  any  of  the  ideal  characters  of  Dickens, 
Thackeray,  George  Eliot,  or  Tennyson. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA 

TT  is  now  appropriate  that  the  reader  accompany 
-*-  me  to  the  home  of  Ramona.  And,  strange  to  say, 
though  Ramona  herself  is  a  fictitious  character  there 
has  been  much  discussion  as  to  her  real  home.  I  have 
before  me  now  a  beautifully  illustrated  booklet  en 
titled  The  Real  Home  of  Ramona.  It  is  devoted  to  a 
description  of  the  Rancho  Guajome,  four  and  a  half 
miles  from  Oceanside,  on  the  San  Diego  branch  of  the 
Santa  Fe  railway. 

Now,  as  Ramona  is  a  fictitious  character,  she  had  no 
real  home,  except  a  birth-home  in  the  imagination  of 
her  creator,  Mrs.  Jackson.  If  one  chooses  to  say  "  I 
believe  the  Rancho  Guajome  to  be  the  real  home  of 
the  fictitious  Ramona,  who  never  had  any  real  exis 
tence,"  there  surely  can  be  no  objection  to  that.  That 
Mrs.  Jackson  was  familiar  with  Guajome  is  well  known. 
She  had  visited  it  and  had  been  hospitably  entertained 
by  its  owners,  Lieutenant  and  Mrs.  Couts. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mrs.  Jackson  herself,  who  surely 
ought  to  have  known  what  she  meant  to  do,  placed  the 
fictitious  home  of  her  fictitious  character  at  Camulos, 
on  the  coast  line  of  the  Southern  Pacific  railway.  Her 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  95 

word  is  final.  No  amount  of  argument  can  possibly 
overturn  what  she  herself  has  written,  but  if  argument 
be  needed,  let  it  be  said  that  with  but  one  exception 
no  error  can  be  found  in  the  descriptions  and  locations 
at  Camulos,  while  there  are  several  discrepancies 
when  one  endeavors  to  locate  the  scenes  at  Guajome. 

It  is  interesting  and  instructive,  however,  to  com 
pare  them  and  thus  see  how  closely  similar  the  old  dons 
created  and  sustained  their  home-establishments. 

One  reason  for  the  assumption  that  Guajome  was 
the  place  originally  in  Mrs.  Jackson's  mind,  is  found  in 
the  several  references  to  the  San  Luis  Rey  Mission,  which 
is  only  three  miles  and  a  half  away.  It  is  argued 
that  if  Camulos  were  meant,  a  nearer  Mission,  viz. : 
San  Buenaventura,  would  have  been  written  about 
and  described. 

No  doubt!  But  it  seems  far  more  reasonable  to  me 
that  the  author  deliberately  and  purposefully  made 
discrepancies  of  this  character  apparent  in  her  book, 
so  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  any  one  to  attempt 
to  locate  exactly  the  home  of  her  fictitious  character. 
Naturally  she  would  wish  to  throw  people  off  the 
scent;  especially  if  she  had  woven  true  incidents  into 
her  story. 

Here  are  some  of  the  references  to  San  Luis  Rey 
Mission : 

"  On  the  veranda  (the  Sefiora's  veranda)  were 
carved  oaken  chairs  and  a  carved  bench,  which  had 
been  brought  to  the  Sefiora  for  safe  keeping,  by  the 
faithful  old  sacristan  of  San  Luis  Rey."  There  were 


96    THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

images  of  saints  also,  and  this  is  how  they  came  into 
the  Sefiora's  keeping. 

"  Aghast  at  the  sacrilegious  acts  of  the  soldiers,  who 
were  quartered  in  the  very  church  itself,  and  amused 
themselves  by  making  targets  of  the  eyes  and  noses 
of  the  saints'  statues,  the  sacristan,  stealthily,  day 
by  day  and  night  after  night,  bore  out  of  the  church 
all  that  he  dared  to  remove,  burying  some  articles  in 
cottonwood  copses,  hiding  others  in  his  own  poor  little 
hovel,  until  he  had  wagon  loads  of  sacred  treasures. 
Then,  still  more  stealthily,  he  carried  them,  a  few  at  a 
time,  concealed  in  the  bottom  of  a  cart,  under  a  load 
of  hay  or  of  brush,  to  the  house  of  the  Senora,  who 
felt  herself  deeply  honored  by  his  confidence,  and 
received  everything  as  a  sacred  trust,  to  be  given  back 
into  the  hands  of  the  Church  again,  whenever  the 
Missions  should  be  restored,  of  which  at  that  time  all 
Catholics  had  good  hope.  And  so  it  came  about  that 
no  bedroom  in  the  Sefiora's  house  was  without  a  pic 
ture  or  a  statue  of  a  saint  or  of  the  Madonna;  and 
some  had  two."  This  incident  of  the  soldiers  being 
quartered  in  the  church  at  San  Luis  Rey  is  strictly 
true,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  it  was  thus  used. 
In  1847  the  Mormon  battalion,  brought  across  the 
continent  to  aid  Keaniy's  "  Army  of  the  West," 
took  possession  of  San  Luis  Rey  and  were  partially 
camped  there  for  two  months.  It  is  possible  that 
members  of  this  religious  sect,  with  most  pronounced 
ideas  against  "  idolatry  "  and  "  images,"  etc.,  justi 
fied  the  censures  of  the  devoutly  Catholic  Mexicans  by 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  97 

their  mockery  of  the  figures  of  saints  and  archangels. 
The  story  is  still  told  of  the  stealthy  removing  of  the 
outraged  figures  by  the  horrified  sacristan,  and  its 
introduction  into  the  story  of  Ramona  shows  how  alert 
the  gifted  author  was  to  avail  herself  of  all  facts  that 
gave  the  proper  "  color  "  to  her  romance. 

Again,  after  Ramona  and  Alessandro  had  been 
married  (in  the  book)  in  San  Diego  by  Father  Gaspara 
and  were  riding  away,  Alessandro  was  mourning 
because  of  the  poor  home  he  should  have  to  give  his 
bride,  when  Ramona  exclaimed :  "  Any  house  that  you 
will  build,  I  can  make  comfortable.  It  is  nothing  but 
trouble  to  have  a  house  as  large  as  the  Senora's.  Mar 
garita  used  to  be  tired  to  death  sweeping  all  those 
rooms  in  which  nobody  lived,  except  the  blessed  old 
San  Luis  Rey  saints." 

These  references  are  taken  to  indicate  surely  that 
Ramona' s  home  must  have  been  very  near  to  the  San 
Luis  Rey  Mission. 

Guajome  is  remarkably  interesting,  whether  Ra- 
mona's  fictitious  home  or  not.  Yet  visitors  should 
remember  it  is  a  Spanish  gentleman's  private  home. 
When  I  was  last  there,  a  "  female  person  "  and 
her  male  companion  came.,  and  without  a  "  Please," 
or  "  Will  you  kindly,"  stepped  to  the  door  of 
a  guest,  and  boldly  asked,  "  Will  you  show  us 
around?  " 

Had  I  had  the  answering,  I  should  have  asked  the 
"  lady  "  to  read  Mr.  Couts's  notice,  tacked  on  the 
door  jamb  close  by.  It  is  interesting  reading : 


98         THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

NOTICE. 

Ladies  and  gentlemen  calling  here, 
in  my  absence,  will  kindly  refrain  from 
assuming  liberties  in  and  about  these 
premises  that  would  be  objectionable  to 
you  if  exercised  by  strangers  in  your 
homes. ' 

This  is  private  property  and  must  be 
respected.  Sightseers  are  only  tolerated, 
NEVER  WANTED!  ! 

CAVE  J.  COUTS,  Owner. 

There  are  those  who  may  deem  this  notice  inhos 
pitable.  Such  are  unable  to  comprehend  the  rudeness 
and  vulgarities  of  some  tourists.  Nay,  more,  the 
vandalism  of  the  ordinary  American  is  beyond  the 
comprehension  of  any  honest,  dignified  person.  Some 
come  and  peer  into  the  kitchen,  and,  when  permitted  to 
enter,  even  lift  off  the  lids  from  the  cooking-pots  to  see 
what  is  therein,  offering  as  a  lame  excuse  for  their 
rudeness,  with  a  sickly  smile,  "  I  thought  it  might  be 
fry  holes  " —  some  call  it  fry  joles  —  "  cooking." 

Nothing  is  safe  from  such  people.  Mr.  Couts  assures 
me  that  he  has  had  to  dismantle  the  roof  of  his  old 
stable  in  order  to  secure  tiles  to  replace  those  on  the 
housetop  broken  by  camera  fiends  who  have  actually 
walked  on  them  in  order  to  secure  pictures  of  the  patio. 

The  name  Guajome  is  Indian  and  signifies  "  the  home 
of  the  frog,"  or  "  the  frog-pond."  There  are  several 
springs  about  the  place,  and  one  of  these  supplies 
the  water  for  a  good-sized  pond,  where  many  frogs  "  do 
congregate."  The  overflow  from  this  pond  makes  a 


In  the  courtyard  at  Guajome,  Southern  California 

Page   101 


The  sheep-shearing  place  at  Guajome 

Page  99 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  99 

marshy  spot  where  tules  and  other  rank  vegetation 
grow  abundantly,  and  where  willows  and  water-loving 
trees  thrive. 

This  frog-pond  and  the  willows  are  taken  by  those 
who  see  Ramona's  home  in  Guajome,  as  the  sheep- 
washing  place  and  the  brook.  Thus  says  one  writer: 
"  It  was  at  the  washing  place,  the  brook  under  the 
trees,  that  Ramona  suffered  the  first  horrible  injustice 
that  came  to  her.  She  often  went  to  this  washing 
place,  we  are  told,  to  wash  out  a  handkerchief  or  a  bit 
of  filmy  lace,  for  Ramona  was  a  lace-maker,  having 
been  educated  at  Los  Angeles  by  the  sisters  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  Convent.  It  was  a  pleasant  spot, 
this  washing  place,  cool  and  shady  even  at  noon,  and 
the  running  water  was  always  full  of  music.  Ramona 
often  knelt  there  of  a  morning,  and  when  Alessandro 
saw  her,  it  went  hard  with  him  to  stay  away." 

At  last,  one  evening,  they  chanced  to  meet  under 
the  trees,  by  the  large  sloping  stones  that  lay  with  one 
edge  in  the  water,  and  Alessandro,  led  on  by  Ramona's 
gentleness  and  humility,  told  her  of  his  great  love; 
and  then  the  terrible,  implacable  Senora,  ere  they  had 
realized  the  sweetness  of  their  first  kiss,  drove  Ales 
sandro  away  with  bitter  words,  and  made  Ramona  a 
prisoner  in  her  room. 

Then  here  we  have  a  sheep-shearing  place.  The 
beautiful  valley,  where  biting  frosts  are  never  known, 
gave  pasturage  to  great  flocks  of  sheep.  The  sleepy 
Mexican  herdsman,  shut  in  by  the  blue  mountains  and 
the  peaceful  ocean,  dreamed  away  the  sunny  hours  and 


ioo   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

did  not  realize,  until  the  priest  came  to  tell  him  that 
the  world  was  full  of  strife,  that  the  hand  of  man  was 
raised  against  man,  and  that  instead  of  one  owner,  the 
happy  valley  must  have  many.  But  the  Senora  had 
still  many  sheep  and  the  shearing  time  was  made  a 
sort  of  festival.  The  author  says:  "  The  shed  where 
the  shearing  was  done  was  a  long,  narrow  structure, 
all  roof  and  no  walls,  the  supports  being  slender  rough 
posts,  the  roof  of  planks  laid  side  by  side." 

The  Senora,  ever  looking  after  the  moral  welfare  of 
all  about  her,  more  indefatigably,  indeed,  than  she 
looked  after  her  own,  always  managed  to  have  the 
priest's  visits  occur  at  the  shearing  time;  so  that, 
really,  there  was  a  sort  of  intermittent  service  of  re 
ligion,  dovetailing  nicely  with  an  intermittent  shearing 
of  sheep,  and  this  went  on  until  the  last  sheep  was 
relieved  of  its  burdensome  wool,  when  the  flocks  and 
the  father  both  departed  for  new  pastures.  Even  the 
windmill  which  we  see  standing  apart  from  the  trees  — 
it  has  lost  some  of  its  picturesque  features  through 
necessary  renovation  —  is  spoken  of  in  the  story. 
"  There  was  a  brisk  wind,  and  the  gay  colored  wings 
of  the  windmill  blew  furiously  round  and  round, 
pumping  out  into  the  tank  below  a  stream  of  water  so 
swift  and  strong,  that,  as  the  men  crowded  around, 
wetting  and  sharpening  their  knives,  they  got  well 
spattered,  and  had  much  merriment  pushing  and 
elbowing  each  other  into  the  spray."  The  Indians 
were  the  best  shearers  on  all  the  coast;  each  man,  as 
their  leader  Alessandro  said,  being  "  able  to  shear  his 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  101 

hundred  a  day,  and  that  without  a  scratch  upon  their 
sides." 

While  the  descriptions  in  Ramona  do  not  all  corre 
spond  with  the  reality  at  Guajome  there  are  some  things 
in  common. 

The  ranch-house  is  built  around  the  patio  or  inner 
court,  just  as  described  in  Ramona.  It  is  located  so 
that  the  front  faces  the  southwest.  The  whole  struc 
ture,  therefore,  is  oblique  to  the  points  of  the  compass. 
The  rising  sun  first  shines  into  the  corner  where  the 
open  fireplace  of  the  Indians  is,  and  into  the  corner  of 
the  patio  near  to  the  dining-room,  so  that  on  coming 
out  to  breakfast  the  inmates  and  their  guests  would  be 
welcomed  with  the  beams  of  the  morning  sun.  The 
walls  are  nearly  three  feet  thick  and,  therefore,  solid 
and  substantial.  Bvery  room  has,  or  could  have,  two 
outlooks,  one  into  the  patio,  the  other  upon  the 
outside. 

The  roofs  are  covered  with  the  red  tiles,  made  so 
familiar  to  us  in  photographs  of  some  of  the  Missions. 
They  were  made  by  old  Indians  who  had  helped  make 
those  now  used  on  the  San  Luis  Rey  Mission.  The 
tiles  are  about  two  feet  long  and  are  not,  as  many 
imagine,  of  uniform  breadth  at  each  end.  The  lower 
end  is  much  broader  than  the  upper,  so  that  if  two  of 
them  were  placed  together  to  form  a  circle,  they  would 
appear  like  a  sugar  cone  or  an  enlarged  axle  for  a  car 
riage  or  wagon. 

The  kitchen  opens  upon  an  outer  veranda  where 
much  of  the  work  was  done,  not  on  the  inner  veranda 


102   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

as  described  in  Ramona.  There  is  also  a  great  beehive- 
shaped  oven,  a  monster  affair,  nearly  six  feet  high  and 
about  six  feet  long,  with  a  great  wide  hungry  mouth 
that  opens  into  the  baker's  kitchen,  where  was  room 
enough  to  prepare  all  the  good  things  the  oven  was 
capable  of  containing.  But  no  longer  does  the 
merry  fire  rage  within  its  cavernous  depths.  Its 
mouth  is  open  all  the  time,  but  it  is  the  mouth  of  a 
dead  monster,  instead  of  that  of  a  live,  jolly  old  canni 
bal  that  used  to  open  and  shut  and  swallow  things,  only 
to  give  them  back  shortly  in  a  fit  condition  for  men  and 
women  to  enjoy. 

In  the  servants'  dining-room  is  an  open  fireplace  that 
must  have  been  a  joy  to  all  concerned.  It  has  an 
opening  about  five  feet  across  and  three  feet  high; 
the  hearth  is  raised  nearly  two  feet  above  the  room 
floor  and  the  whole  is  built  in  the  old-fashioned  mas 
sive  style  and  then  whitewashed.  It  undoubtedly 
afforded  comfort  of  the  most  delightful  character  to 
those  who  were  privileged  to  enjoy  it. 

Another  great  fireplace  is  that  at  the  northeast 
corner  of  the  patio,  outside.  This  relic  of  the  past 
stands  close  to  the  great  doors  which  enter  into  the 
wagon  court.  The  open  space  is  about  sixteen  feet 
long  and  ten  feet  broad,  with  a  door  entering  one  of  the 
rooms  directly  opposite  the  fireplace,  and  large  double 
doors  leading  into  the  patio  on  the  right.  Here  the 
Indian  laborers  and  employees  on  the  great  ranch  were 
wont  to  assemble  at  night  before  retiring  to  their  own 
quarters.  Here  the  vaqueros,  when  they  had  been 


Indian  u-omen  winnowing  grain  and  pounding  it  in  granite  mortars 

Page  103 


El  Recreo,  Don  Antonio  Coronet's  home,  in  Los  Angeles,  where  Mrs.  Jackson 
used  to  visit 

Page  309 


South  Veranda  and  Garden  at  Camillas 
Page   109 


TJ 


San  Gabriel  Mission,  near  where  Ramona  is  said  to  have  been  born 

Page   117 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  103 

caught  out  in  the  storm  and  arrived  at  the  house  wet 
through,  would  come  and  dry  themselves. 

To  shut  out  their  noisy  revelry  and  fun  from  those 
inside,  the  large  doors  were  closed,  and  thus  there  were 
two  worlds  going  on  side  by  side,  each  separate,  each 
apart. 

It  was  well,  too,  that  the  doors  could  be  closed,  for 
in  those  early  days  it  was  not  always  sure  exactly 
what  Indians  could  be  relied  upon  and  what  not. 
Some  were  treacherous  and  vengeful,  for  they  fiercely 
resented  the  theft  of  their  homes,  and  loved  not  the 
haughty  dons  who  lorded  it  over  them  in  domineering 
style. 

That  Indians  once  lived  close  to,  or  perhaps  on  the 
very  site  of,  Guajome  is  clearly  apparent.  Up  under 
where  one  of  the  modern  water  tanks  is  now  built  was 
once  a  grinding  place  of  the  Indians.  In  a  huge  out- 
thrust  boulder  of  granite  a  deep  mortar  has  been 
scooped,  and  there  the  seeds,  grain  and  meat  were 
taken  to  be  pounded.  Who  knows  but  that  once  an 
Indian  village  was  located  right  on  the  very  spot  where 
the  ranch-house  now  stands?  There  was  water  in 
abundance,  and  such  a  location  was  just  what  an  Indian 
would  naturally  choose.  Then,  too,  a  few  hundred 
yards  from  the  house,  is  a  large  date  palm  evidently  of 
great  age;  it  was  old  before  Lieutenant  Couts  built 
the  house  in  1852.  Who  planted  that?  Where  did  its 
seed  come  from? 

At  the  Rancho  Guajome  there  is  also  the  chapel 
spoken  of;  the  chapel  in  the  garden,  although  in  its 


io4   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

preservation  it  has  been  considerably  modernized. 
This  is  where  many  of  the  San  Luis  Rey  saints  were 
put,  and  where  old  Father  Zalvidea,  one  of  the  last  of 
the  Franciscans,  used  to  come  to  say  mass  for  the  family 
and  their  Mexican  retainers.  In  speaking  to  Felipe  of 
the  father's  coming,  the  Sefiora  says:  "  He  leaves 
Santa  Barbara  on  the  first,  and  the  tenth  is  the  very 
earliest  he  can  be  here."  Taking  out  the  day  he  had 
to  spend  in  San  Buenaventura,  that  at  Ortega's  and 
that  at  Lopez's,  it  would  still  leave  him  seven  days  of 
travel  from  Santa  Barbara  to  Sefiora  Moreno's  house, 
at  the  very  least ;  and  it  was  longer  even  than  she  had 
reckoned,  before  he  reached  it.  Now  by  the  Southern 
Pacific  railway,  which  follows  as  near  as  can  be  the  old 
Spanish  road,  the  distance  from  Santa  Barbara  is 
sixty-four  miles,  and  from  San  Buenaventura  thirty- 
six  miles.  This  could  have  been  walked  easily  in  one 
or  two  days;  hence  those  who  prefer  to  believe  that 
Guajome  and  not  Camulos  were  meant  by  Mrs.  Jack 
son  claim  this  factor  of  distance  in  their  favor.  To 
Guajome  the  distance  from  Santa  Barbara  would  be 
about  two  hundred  and  ten  miles,  and  this  could  have 
been  walked  in  the  ten  days  by  the  saintly  Franciscan. 
Ramona  had  the  chapel  all  ready  for  his  coming.  She 
delighted  in  keeping  the  images  adorned  with  wreaths 
of  flowers  and  the  ferns  Alessandro  brought  her:  "  tall 
ones,  like  ostrich  plumes,  six  and  eight  feet  high;  the 
feathery  maidenhair,  and  the  gold  fern,  and  the 
silver,  twice  as  large  as  she  had  ever  found  them.  The 
chapel  was  beautiful,  like  a  conservatory,  after  she 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMON  A  105 

had  arranged  them  in  vases  and  around  the  high 
candlesticks."  Then  Alessandro  taught  Ramona  to 
make  wreaths  of  last  year's  seeds  of  the  artichoke,  - 
"  great  soft  round  disks  of  fine,  threadlike  silk,  with 
a  kind  of  saint's  halo  around  them  of  sharp  points, 
glossy  as  satin  and  of  a  lovely  creamy  color." 

Everything  at  Guajome,  at  the  time  I  visited  it  in 
1903,  was  very  dilapidated.  When  the  estate  of  the 
Sefiora  Couts  was  settled  (she  died  in  1897),  her  son, 
Cave  Johnston  Couts,  bought  the  ranch  from  the  other 
heirs  with  the  laudable  desire  of  keeping  it  together 
and  of  some  day  restoring  it  to  a  modernized  resem 
blance  to  the  glorious  past.  It  has  been  and  is  a  great 
undertaking,  and  it  is  hoped  he  will  succeed,  for  it  is  a 
princely  inheritance. 

Mr.  Couts  laughs  at  the  idea  of  locating  Ramona's 
home  at  Guajome.  He  has  no  love  for  Mrs.  Jackson, 
and  deems  her  characterization  of  the  Indian  as 
entirely  false. 

So  much,  then,  for  Guajome  and  its  claims.  On 
the  other  hand,  all  who  knew  Mrs.  Jackson  —  the 
Coronels,  Mrs.  Jeanne  C.  Carr,  Mr.  Abbott  Kinney — 
assert  that  she  had  no  other  place  in  mind  than  Cam- 
ulos.  Miss  Picher,  the  Director  of  the  Pasadena 
Loan  Association,  who  conferred  for  years  with  the 
Coronels  about  the  story  of  Ramona,  thus  authorita 
tively  writes:  "  Having  formulated  the  plot  and 
general  structure  of  her  novel,  Mrs.  Jackson  one  day 
suggested  at  the  friendly  old  adobe  of  the  Coronels 
that  she  locate  the  story  in  the  spot  where  so  much 


io6   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  its  inspiration  had  come  to  her, —  namely,  in  Los 
Angeles  itself,  and  specifically  in  this  very  adobe, 
with  whose  laden  orange  trees  and  acacia  boughs,  his 
toric  recitals  and  old-fashioned  sunrise  hymns  her 
own  stay  in  Los  Angeles  had  been  so  charmingly 
associated.  But  Dona  Mariana  declared  there  re 
mained  but  one  Spanish  homestead  where  the  original 
life  of  a  California  haciendado  could  still  be  studied  in 
all  its  poetry  and  importance;  and  told  of  the  patrician 
character  of  Camulos.  Here,  she  added,  might  still 
be  studied  the  pressing  of  the  mission  olive  in  the  old 
morteros;  the  gathering  of  the  vintage  in  Hispano- 
Indian  fashion;  the  making  of  Spanish  wine;  the 
Spanish  sheep-shearing,  under  an  Indian  capitan. 
Here  were  still  the  picturesque  retainers;  here  were 
distinguished  family  traditions  —  all  the  elements,  in 
fact,  upon  which  the  book  might  grow  with  historic 
fidelity. 

"  Upon  Mrs.  Jackson's  suggestion  that  a  stranger 
could  not  expect  to  receive  a  welcome,  if  even  recog 
nition,  in  such  a  home,  she  was  assured  of  adequate 
introduction;  and  was  in  fact  provided  with  cordial 
personal  letters,  armed  with  which  she  went  to  Camu 
los.  The  Sefiora  del  Valle,  the  noble  and  widely 
beloved  lady  of  that  little  principality,  was  absent  on 
an  errand  of  mercy  when  Mrs.  Jackson  arrived  at 
Camulos.  Had  the  author  of  Ramona  met  that  soul 
of  gentle  dignity  it  is  probable  that  the  novel  never 
would  have  included  in  its  personnel  a  '  Sefiora 
Moreno.'  " 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  107 

I  do  not  believe  that  Miss  Picher  is  justified  in  the 
last  supposition.  It  should  never  be  forgotten  that 
Ramona  is  a  novel.  While  certain  real  persons  may 
be  taken  (as  in  this  novel  they  certainly  were)  as  the 
basis  upon  which  to  build  up  the  fictitious  characters, 
they  are  nevertheless  pure  creations  of  the  novelist's 
imagination.  Hence  Mrs.  Jackson's  character  of  the 
Senora  Moreno  is  no  more  to  be  assumed  to  be  a  true 
picture  of  the  Senora  del  Valle  than  it  is  to  be  that 
of  Queen  Victoria  or  the  Czarina  of  Russia. 

Let  us  now  visit  Camulos,  the  avowed  and  accepted 
home  of  the  heroine. 

In  April,  1886,  Mr.  Edwards  Roberts  wrote  an  ac 
count  of  what  he  saw  at  Camulos.  It  has  changed  little 
since  that  time. 

Here  is  what  he  said : 

"  What  I  sought  is  this  which  I  have  found, —  the 
Camulos  ranch,  the  home  of  Ramona,  whom  '  H.  H.' 
created,  and  described  as  living  with  the  Senora 
Moreno  in  this  house  from  which  I  write  to-night. 
Yes,  here  lived  the  heroine  of  the  novel  which  many 
call  the  American  novel,  long  watched  for  and  now 
come  at  last.  Here,  before  the  cool,  shaded  veranda 
on  which  I  sit,  is  the  court-yard;  here  Felipe's  room, 
and  there  Ramona's,  and  there  the  Sefiora's.  I  can 
see  the  kitchen,  from  which,  to  the  dining-room,  there 
was  always  a  procession  of  children  carrying  smoking- 
hot  dishes  to  the  Senora's  table.  Where  I  am  sitting 
old  Juan  Can  used  to  lounge,  with  his  legs  stretched 
out  before  him,  and  his  dog  at  his  feet.  Near  by 


io8   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

is  the  south  veranda,  the  Senora's  own,  on  which 
opened  the  room  the  good  Father  Salvierderra  used 
always  to  occupy;  beyond  that  is  the  garden,  '  always 
a  mass  of  verdure,'  in  which  is  the  chapel;  in  other 
directions  are  the  olive,  almond  and  orange-groves. 
It  is  all  as  Mrs.  Jackson  in  her  novel  describes  it.  One 
recognizes  at  once  the  various  places  where  this  and 
that  scene  was  enacted,  and  the  characters  of  the  story 
become  living  realities. 

"  The  Camulos  ranch  comprises  fourteen  hundred 
acres  of  farm  and  fruit-land,  and  is  about  eighteen 
miles  west  of  Newhall.  The  property  was  bought  by 
the  husband  of  the  present  owner,  who  is  constantly 
reminding  one  of  the  Sefiora  Moreno,  and  the  house 
was  built  nearly  thirty-one  years  ago.  '  The  house 
was  of  adobe,  low,  with  a  wide  veranda  on  the  three 
sides  of  the  inner  court,  and  a  still  broader  one  across 
the  entire  front,  which  looked  to  the  south.  These 
verandas,  especially  those  on  the  inner  court,  were 
supplementary  rooms  to  the  house.  The  greater  part 
of  the  family  life  went  on  in  them.  .  .  .  All  the 
kitchen  work,  except  the  actual  cooking,  was  done 
here,  in  front  of  the  kitchen  doors  and  windows.  Ba 
bies  slept,  were  washed,  sat  in  the  dirt,  and  played  on 
the  verandas.  The  women  said  their  prayers,  took 
their  naps,  and  wove  their  lace  there.  The  herdsmen 
and  shepherds  smoked  there,  lounged  there,  trained 
their  dogs  there;  there  the  young  made  love  and  the 
old  dozed.'  And  it  is  the  same  now.  The  court  is 
open  on  the  east,  and  that  side  is  formed  by  a  grove 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  109 

of  orange-trees.  In  the  center  of  the  little  square,  set 
about  with  rose-bushes  and  a  few  trees,  is  a  small 
fountain-basin;  and  past  this  the  maids  and  children 
pass  a  score  of  times  a  day,  on  their  way  from  the 
dining-room,  on  the  south  side  of  the  court,  to  the 
kitchen  on  the  north.  There  being  no  hotel  in  this 
part  of  the  valley,  Camulos  is  often  rilled  with 
belated  strangers,  or  visited  by  those  desirous  of  seeing 
what  an  old-time  Spanish  ranch  is  like.  The  house 
hold  is  composed  of  nearly  twenty  people,  related  to 
the  Senora.  They  are  all  acquainted  with  Ramona, 
and  regret  not  being  able  to  show  one  the  original 
of  that  lovely  character.  '  Many  who  come  here,'  I 
am  told,  '  do  not  believe  that  we  are  not  the  ones  Mrs. 
Jackson  described.  They  ask  for  Ramona  and  Senora 
Moreno,  and  will  not  believe  we  are  not  the  ones  they 
wish  to  see.  We  remember  when  Mrs.  Jackson  came. 
She  did  not  remain  long;  and  our  Senora,  who,  we 
are  told,  is  so  much  like  the  Senora  Moreno,  was  then 
away.' 

"  The  verandas  about  the  inner  court  are  long  and 
deep.  '  The  south  veranda,'  '  H.  H.'  says,  '  was  a 
delightsome  place.  It  must  have  been  eighty  feet 
long  at  least,  for  the  doors  of  five  large  rooms  opened 
on  it.  The  two  westernmost  rooms  had  been  added 
on,  and  made  four  steps  higher  than  the  others,  which 
gave  to  that  end  of  the  veranda  the  look  of  a  balcony 
or  loggia.  Here  the  Senora  kept  her  flowers  —  fine 
geraniums,  carnations  and  yellow-flowered  musk. 
.  .  .  Besides  the  geraniums,  carnations  and  musk 


i  io   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

in  the  red  jars,  there  were  many  sorts  of  climbing 
vines, —  some  com:"<^  from  the  ground,  and  twining 
around  the  pillars  of  the  veranda;  some  growing  in 
great  bowls,  swung  by  cords  from  the  roof  of  the  ver 
anda,  or  set  on  shelves  against  the  walls.  Among 
these  vines,  singing  from  morning  till  night,  hung  the 
Senora's  canaries  and  finches,  half  a  dozen  of  each, 
all  of  different  generations,  raised  by  the  Sefiora.' 
The  south  veranda  is  still  popular.  In  the  daytime 
one  sits  there  to  enjoy  the  prospect  of  the  garden 
opposite,  and  during  the  evening  the  Sefiora  visits  it 
and  has  quiet  conversations  with  her  people,  or  with 
visiting  friends. 

"  Coming  suddenly  upon  the  Camulos  ranch-house 
one  might  naturally  mistake  it  for  some  military 
stronghold.  The  walls  are  thick  and  low,  and  are 
strengthened  by  heavy  buttresses,  between  which  is  a 
passageway  to  the  cellar,  and  over  which  have  grown 
honeysuckle-vines  that  climb  even  to  the  overhanging 
eaves  of  the  house.  It  was  on  the  south  veranda,  in 
sight  of  these  strong,  vine-clad  buttresses  and  of  the 
garden,  that  Felipe  rested  after  his  illness,  while  Ales- 
sandro  watched  by  his  side.  The  westernmost  room, 
leading  off  the  upper  balcony  or  loggia,  was  the  room 
always  given  to  Father  Salvierderra.  Its  window 
opens  on  the  garden,  and  the  doorway  faces  the  east. 
'  Between  the  veranda  and  the  river  meadows  .  .  . 
all  was  garden,  orange-grove,  and  almond-orchard,  the 
orange-grove  always  green,  never  without  snowy 
bloom  or  golden  fruit;  the  garden  never  without 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  in 

flowers,  summer  or  winter;  and  the  almond -orchard 
in  early  spring  a  fluttering  canopy  of  pink  and  white 
petals.  ...  On  either  hand  stretched  away  other 
orchards  —  pear,  peach,  apricot,  apple,  pomegranate 
and  beyond  these,  vineyards.  Nothing  was  to  be 
seen  but  verdure  or  bloom  or  fruit,  at  whatever  time 
of  year  you  sat  on  the  Senora's  south  veranda.' 

"  The  garden  nearest  the  south  side  of  the  house  is 
to  nearly  all  who  visit  the  ranch  the  most  delightful 
feature  of  the  place.  It  is  barely  an  acre  in  extent, 
but  is  filled  with  trees  and  shrubs  that  give  forth  a  rich 
fragrance,  and  is  inhabited  by  many  birds.  In  the 
center  of  the  garden  is  a  large  deep  basin,  into  which 
fall  the  waters  of  a  fountain.  Around  the  rim  of  the 
basin  are  pots  of  flowers,  and  curiosities  found  in  the 
adjacent  fields.  To  the  left  of  the  fountain  and  ex 
tending  down  the  east  side  of  the  garden  is  a  long 
grape-arbor,  overhung  with  vines.  It  leads  to  the 
brook  that  runs  in  the  shade  of  some  old,  gnarled 
willow-trees,  where  the  maids  are  made,  in  Ramona, 
to  do  the  washing  of  the  Senora's  luxurious  household. 
It  was  there,  too,  at  the  foot  of  the  arbor,  that  Ales- 
sandro  first  saw  Ramona,  as  she  was  busy  washing  the 
altar-cloth  that  Margarita  had  carelessly  allowed  to 
become  torn.  Beyond  the  brook  is  the  Santa  Clara 
River,  and  from  the  south  bank  of  that  shallow  stream 
rises  a  group  of  hills,  one  being  capped  with  a  huge 
wooden  cross,  which  '  H.  H.'  says  the  Sefiora  Moreno 
caused  to  be  set  up,  that  it  might  serve  as  notice  to  all 
passers-by  that  they  were  on  the  land  of  a  good 


ii2   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Catholic.     There  is  another  of  these  crosses  on  the  hill 
to  the  south  of  the  ranch. 

"  To  the  west  of  the  garden  fountain  is  a  little  chapel, 
so  often  referred  to  in  Ramona.  Standing  in  the  shadow 
of  the  orange-trees  that  fill  the  garden,  and  overgrown 
with  trailing  vines  that  creep  over  the  pointed  roof 
and  are  festooned  about  the  sides  of  the  building,  the 
chapel  is  a  delightful  place.  A  shaded  gravel-walk 
leads  through  the  garden  to  its  entrance,  and  the 
interior  contains  a  small  white  altar,  on  which  are  sev 
eral  choice  ornaments  and  a  statue  of  the  patron  saint 
of  the  household.  The  walls  are  hung  with  pictures 
of  saints,  some  of  them  admirably  painted.  The 
present  Sefiora  is  a  devout  church-woman,  and  holds 
regular  service  in  her  chapel.  She  reads  the  service 
herself  as  she  kneels  before  the  altar,  and  the  responses 
are  made  by  her  children  and  maids.  Whenever  a 
Franciscan  Father  or  a  priest  of  the  Catholic  Church 
passes  up  the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  he  is  invited  by  the 
Sefiora  to  visit  her  house  and  say  mass  in  the  chapel. 
During  such  service  the  visitor  is  robed  in  richly  wrought 
vestments,  which  are  kept  in  a  chest  of  drawers  standing 
near  the  altar.  In  that  same  chest,  too,  is  the  cloth, 
with  the  rent  in  it  still  showing,  supposed  to  be  the 
very  one  that  Ramona  mended, —  a  fact  illustrating 
the  remarkable  gift  Mrs.  Jackson  had  of  observing 
every  detail  of  places  she  visited,  and,  later,  of  using 
that  information  to  embellish  her  works  and  render 
them  realistic.  She  was  at  Camulos  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  yet  her  description  of  the  ranch-house 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  113 

and  of  its  surroundings  in  Ramona  is  wonderfully 
perfect.  Taking  Ramona  in  hand,  one  staying  at 
Camulos  can  find  almost  every  scene  described.  There 
are  the  corrals,  where  the  band  of  Temecula  Indians 
sheared  the  sheep;  the  barn  from  which  Alessandro 
took  the  saddle  on  the  night  of  his  and  Ramona's  de 
parture  from  the  ranch;  the  willows,  near  which  the 
lovers  were  surprised  by  the  Sefiora  Moreno;  and  the 
thicket  of  wild  mustard  through  which  Father  Sal- 
vierderra  was  slowly  making  his  way  when  Ramona 
came  suddenly  upon  him.  No  detail  of  construction 
or  location  seems  to  have  escaped  notice. 

"  Near  the  chapel,  at  the  northwest  end  of  the 
garden,  stands  a  tall  frame  of  heavy  beams,  that  sup 
ports  a  trio  of  bells.  These  bells  came  from  Spain, 
and  at  one  time  were  hung  in  the  tower  of  one  of  the 
Franciscan  Missions  of  California.  The  largest  is 
cracked,  but  is  still  melodious.  It  is  used  to  call  the 
people  to  chapel.  The  one  by  its  side  is  rung  for  the 
children  to  go  to  school;  that  above  is  the  dinner-bell. 
The  support  is  entwined  with  vines;  and  behind  the 
bells,  a  short  distance  away,  is  a  bright  green  olive- 
grove.  Listening  to  the  deep  mellow  tone  of  the  large 
bell,  and  seeing  the  Senora,  followed  by  her  attendants, 
walking  slowly  through  the  garden  to  the  chapel,  one 
can  easily  imagine  himself  in  some  foreign  country. 
It  is  all  un-American  and  strange.  The  heavy  white 
walls  of  the  house,  the  perfume  of  orange-blossoms 
and  roses,  the  organ  chants  and  the  faint  sounds  of 
prayers  recited  in  Spanish,  recall  days  in  Spain  where, 


ii4   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

as  here,  there  were  peace  and  quiet  and  an  existence 
altogether  romantic  and  poetical." 

I  was  once  at  Camulos,  at  the  time  of  the  Flower 
Festival  of  Santa  Barbara,  in  the  month  of  April,  1895. 
To  attempt  to  describe  the  rich  beauty  of  the  Santa 
Clara  Valley  at  this  time  of  the  year  would  be  impos 
sible  to  either  a  Ruskin,  a  Benjamin  Taylor  or  a  Canon 
Farrar,  and  the  rich  canvases  of  a  Turner  or  a  Vandyke 
could  not  do  more  than  suggest  the  glories  the  eye  con 
stantly  discerns.  Well  might  Edward  Roberts  write: 

"  The  Santa  Clara  Valley  is  a  garden.  By  the  road 
side  is  field  after  field  of  grain.  If  I  were  an  Easterner, 
and  had  never  seen  California,  and  should  see  it  as  I  do 
now,  robed  in  its  bright  spring  dress,  sweet  to  smell,  beau 
tiful  to  look  upon,  as  warm  and  pleasant  as  June  is  in 
New  England,  I  should  ever  after  be  a  devoted  admirer 
of  the  State,  and  could  always  be  ready  to  believe  and 
indorse  all  the  pleasant  things  said  in  regard  to  it." 

I  did  not  go  down  to  the  house  on  the  occasion  of 
this  visit,  for  I  am  well  aware  of  the  annoyance  so 
much  promiscuous  calling  of  visitors  causes  to  the 
honored  residents.  The  rudeness  of  some  of  these 
visitors  is  as  astonishing  as  their  impudence  is  colossal. 
One  feminine  creature  —  so  I  am  told  —  once  walked 
directly  into  one  of  the  bedrooms  and  exclaimed: 
"  Oh!  I'm  sure  this  was  Ramona's  bedroom,  and  her 
very  own  bed,"  and,  throwing  herself  upon  it,  she  added, 
with  a  grunt  of  satisfaction:  "  There  now,  I  can  say 
I  have  laid  down  on  Ramona's  own  bed." 

In  describing  Camulos  one  must  not  forget  the  old 


THE  HOME  OF  RAMONA  115 

olive -oil  mill.  Nothing  could  be  more  simple  than  this 
machine  for  crushing  the  olives  and  thus  securing  the 
rich,  delicious  oil.  The  rough  basic  rock,  shaped  into 
a  roller,  is  affixed  to  an  axle,  one  end  of  which  revolves 
in  the  upright  standard  in  the  center  of  the  mill  base, 
which  is  kept  firm  and  solid  by  the  wooden  frame. 
To  the  other  end  the  horse  is  attached.  As  he  slowly 
moves  around  the  mill,  the  roller  crushes  the  olives  and 
the  oil  runs  into  a  receptacle  prepared  for  it.  No 
better  olive-oil  is  manufactured  to-day  than  was  (and 
still  is)  crushed  out  in  these  old-fashioned  mills. 

One  of  the  windows  at  Camulos  is  barred,  and  it 
requires  but  little  stretch  of  the  imagination  to  see  there 
Rarnona  when  she  was  confined  by  the  stern  and  hard 
hearted  Senora  after  she  had  discovered  the  girl's  love 
for  Alessandro. 

The  surroundings  of  Camulos,  now,  as  when  Mr. 
Roberts  visited  it,  are  most  beautiful  and  attractive. 
Said  he,  "  the  hillsides  are  literally  covered  with  wild- 
flowers  and  thickets  of  wild  mustard,  while  the  river 
winds  down  the  long  wide  valley  like  a  silver  thread. 
Lambs  and  frisky  kids  are  bleating  in  the  corrals; 
the  swallows  are  building  their  nests  of  mud  under  the 
eaves  of  the  barn ;  the  almond  blossoms  of  a  few  weeks 
ago  have  fallen,  and  in  their  place  are  hairy  little 
bodies  that  daily  grow  in  size,  and  on  the  orange  trees 
are  clusters  of  golden  fruit  and  white  blossoms; 
the  roses  are  in  full  bloom,  the  grasses  are  green.  All 
nature  is  fresh  and  fair;  the  season  is  that  in  which 
Ramona's  new  life  began," 


CHAPTER  VII 

SAN   GABRIEL,    THE    BIRTHPLACE   OF   RAMONA 

TN  the  chapter  on  the  original  of  Ramona  I  give  the 
-*-  story  of  Hugo  Reid,  with  which  Mrs.  Jackson  was 
made  familiar,  and  from  which  she  gained  the  idea  of 
making  her  heroine  the  daughter  of  an  Indian  woman 
and  a  Scotchman  who  had  been  jilted.  He  actually 
lived  at  San  Gabriel,  near  the  old  Mission  of  San 
Gabriel  Arcangel,  hence  it  was  appropriate  that  the 
author  should  make  this  the  birthplace  of  her  fictitious 
heroine. 

San  Gabriel  was  the  fourth  to  be  established  in  the 
chain  of  California  Missions,  being  founded  September 
8,  I771'  by  Padres  Somero  and  Cambon,  two  months 
after  San  Antonio  de  Padua,  and  a  year  prior  to  San 
Luis  Obispo. 

The  licentious  Spanish  soldiers  caused  trouble  with 
the  Indians  at  San  Gabriel  almost  before  the  services 
of  the  dedication  were  over,  although  the  natives  had 
shown  the  greatest  kindness  and  desire  to  assist.  They 
brought  the  needful  timber,  erected  the  first  crude 
wooden  buildings  and  stockade,  covered  the  roofs  with 
tules,  and  displayed  their  natural  hospitality  by  bring 
ing  to  the  priests  offerings  of  acorns  and  pine  nuts. 


.4  n  old  olive  oil  mill  of  Ramona's  day 
Page  115 


Six-ox  team  drawing  a  load  of  hay  in  Ramona's  day 

Page  115 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA         117 

Yet  these  villainous  members  of  the  superior  race  (!), 
because  the  priests  were  aged  and  incapable  of  assert 
ing  their  authority,  pursued  the  Indians  to  their 
rancherias  and  caught  them  with  their  lassos,  even 
going  so  far  as  to  kill  some  men  who  were  determined  to 
protect  their  wives  and  daughters  against  their  lusts. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  any  Mission  in  California  is  as 
well  known  as  San  Gabriel.  Its  close  proximity  to  Los 
Angeles  has  made  it  an  object  invariably  visited  by  the 
tourist,  and  the  result  is  that  many  thousands  think  of 
it  and  picture  it  when  the  Missions  are  named.  And 
yet  it  is  far  from  being  one  of  the  strikingly  picturesque 
buildings  of  the  Mission  chain.  Were  it  not  for  the 
campanile,  with  its  very  interesting  arrangement  of 
bells,  it  would  be  one  of  the  least  picturesque.  Yet, 
in  some  respects,  it  is  a  most  interesting  Mission;  its 
history  being  especially  fascinating  and  romantic.  It 
was  here  that  Padre  Jose  Maria  Zalvidea  presided  for 
many  years.  He  was  a  man  of  austere  life  and  habits, 
a  rigid  believer  in  strict  discipline,  and  under  his  man 
agement  and  direction  San  Gabriel  became  wealthy 
and  powerful.  Every  Indian  was  required  to  work  and 
work  hard,  for  he  systematized  and  brought  up  the 
workers  to  the  highest  possible  degree  of  efficiency. 
About  thirty  different  occupations  were  carried  on 
and  the  methods  used  to  procure  the  necessary  daily 
"  stint  "  of  work  from  each  Indian  savour  somewhat 
of  the  methods  of  slave-drivers  rather  than  of  a  Chris 
tian  missionary.  For  the  surviving  Indians  of  twenty 
or  more  years  ago  are  authority  for  the  assertions  that 


n8   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  Mexican  mayor-domo,  Claudio  Lopez,  appointed 
Indian  deputies,  who  took  charge  of  specified  bands  of 
men  and  women,  and  personally  controlled  their  work. 
Each  of  these  deputies  was  armed  with  bull-whips 
made  of  strips  of  rawhide,  which  they  used  upon  the 
backs  and  shoulders  of  any  they  deemed  lazy.  This 
treatment  caused  great  anger  and  dissatisfaction,  and 
it  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  more  daring  to  run 
away  to  the  mountains,  there  to  organize  bands  hostile 
to  the  Missions.  Many  a  midnight  attack  has  been 
made  upon  San  Gabriel  by  these  runaways  or  "  rene 
gades  "  as  they  were  commonly  called.  The  great 
hedges  of  tuna,  or  prickly  pear,  the  remnants  of  which 
are  still  to  be  seen  at  San  Gabriel,  are  silent  reminders 
of  the  fierce  antagonisms  of  those  days,  for  they  were 
planted  not  only  to  supply  their  fiuit  as  food  to  the 
Indians,  but  also  to  act  as  a  protecting  hedge  against 
the  foe. 

In  Chapter  XVIII  of  Ramona,  Mrs.  Jackson  makes 
Alessandro  tell  a  story,  related  to  him  by  a  San  Gabriel 
woman,  of  the  bad  actions  of  the  men  sometimes  placed 
in  authority  over  the  Indians.  He  himself  was  an 
Indian,  but  a  bad  man.  "  When  a  whole  band  of  them 
ran  away  at  one  time,  and  went  back  into  the  moun 
tains,  he  went  after  them;  and  he  brought  back  a  piece 
of  each  man's  ear;  the  pieces  were  on  a  string;  and  he 
laughed,  and  said  that  was  to  know  them  by  again, — 
by  their  clipped  ears." 

This  was  actually  told  to  Mrs.  Jackson  herself,  as  a 
fact,  by  this  old  Gabrieleno.  And  it  is  possible  there 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA        119 

was  some  truth  in  it.  In  an  unpublished  manuscript 
left  by  B.  D.  Wilson, —  a  prominent  early  day  American 
Californian,  who  lived  near  to  San  Gabriel,  and  who 
was  the  first  Indian  agent  for  the  southern  district  of 
California  —  he  tells  of  personally  heading  parties  who 
went  after  these  bands  of  renegade  Indians,  prior  to 
the  time  of  the  United  States'  occupation  of  California. 
In  the  following  extract  there  is  a  reference  to  the 
killing  of  a  renegade  whose  ears  were  clipped.  With  a 
band  of  soldiers  he  was  seeking  for  some  renegades  led 
by  a  renowned  desperado,  Joaquin.  Suddenly  emerg 
ing  upon  an  open  plain  he  discovered  four  Indians. 
"  The  leading  man  of  the  four  happened  to  be  the  very 
man  of  all  others  I  was  seeking  for.  The  first  marauder, 
Joaquin,  had  been  raised  as  a  page  of  the  church  in  San 
Gabriel  Mission,  and,  for  his  depredations  and  outlawry, 
bore  on  his  person  the  mark  of  the  Mission,  i.  e.,  one  of 
his  ears  cropped  off  and  the  iron  brand  on  his  hip. 
This  is  the  only  instance  I  ever  saw  or  heard  of,  of  that 
kind;  and  that  marking  had  not  been  done  at  the 
Mission,  but  at  one  of  the  ranches  —  El  Chino  —  by 
the  mayor-domo.  While  in  conversation  with  Joaquin 
the  command  was  coming  on,  and  he  then  became  con 
vinced  that  we  were  on  a  campaign  against  him  and  his 
people.  It  was  evident  before  that  he  had  taken  me 
for  a  traveler.  Immediately  that  he  discovered  the 
true  state  of  things,  he  whipped  from  his  quiver  an 
arrow,  strung  it  on  his  bow,  and  left  nothing  for  me 
to  do  but  to  kill  him  in  self  defense.  We  both  dis 
charged  our  weapons  at  the  same  time.  I  had  no 


120   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

chance  to  raise  the  gun  to  my  shoulder,  but  fired  it 
from  my  hand.  His  shot  took  effect  in  my  right 
shoulder,  and  mine  in  his  breast.  The  shock  of  his 
arrow  in  my  shoulder  caused  me  involuntarily  to  let 
my  gun  drop;  my  shot  knocked  him  down  disabled, 
but  he  discharged  at  me  a  tirade  of  abuse  in  the  Spanish 
language  such  as  I  never  heard  surpassed. 

"  I  was  on  mule-back,  and  I  got  down  to  pick  up 
my  gun.  By  this  time  my  command  arrived  on  the 
spot.  The  other  three  Indians  were  making  off  over 
the  plains.  I  ordered  my  men  to  capture  them  alive, 
but  the  Indians  resisted  stoutly  and  refused  to  the 
last  to  surrender,  and  wounded  several  of  our  horses 
and  two  or  three  men,  and  had  to  be  killed.  Those 
three  men  actually  fought  eighty  men  in  open  plain  till 
they  were  put  to  death.  During  the  fight  Joaquin  laid 
on  the  ground  uttering  curse  and  abuse  against  the 
Spanish  race  and  people.  I  discovered  that  I  was  shot 
with  a  poisoned  arrow  and  rode  down  some  five  hundred 
yards  to  the  river.  Some  of  my  men  on  returning  and 
finding  that  Joaquin  was  not  dead,  finished  him.  I  had 
to  proceed  immediately  to  the  care  of  my  wound.  .  .  . 
I  have  frequently  seen  the  Indians  prepare  the  poison 
and  it  is  nothing  more  than  putrid  meat  or  liver  and 
blood  poisoned  by  rattlesnake  venom,  which  they  dry 
in  thin  sticks  and  carry  in  leather  sheaths.  When  they 
went  on  a  hunting  or  campaigning  expedition  they 
wetted  their  arrows  with  the  sticks  and  when  it  was 
too  dry  they  softened  it  by  holding  it  near  the  fire  a 
little  while," 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA        121 

Mr.  Wilson  continues  and  relates  how  his  wound  was 
healed,  the  poison  being  sucked  out  by  his  faithful 
Comanche  Indian ;  then  how  the  command  proceeded 
unsuccessfully  against  more  Indians,  returned  with 
several  men  badly  wounded,  abandoned  the  campaign, 
recruited  a  new  force,  and  then,  twenty-one  strong, 
started  on  an  eight-day  march  to  the  Mohave  river. 

"  We  discovered  an  Indian  village  and  I  at  once 
directed  my  men  to  divide  in  two  parties  to  surround 
and  attack  the  village.  We  did  it  successfully,  but 
as  on  the  former  occasion  the  men  in  the  place  would 
not  surrender,  and  on  my  endeavoring  to  persuade  them 
to  give  up  they  shot  one  of  my  men,  Evan  Callaghan, 
in  the  back.  I  thought  he  was  mortally  wounded  and 
commanded  my  men  to  fire.  The  fire  was  kept  up  until 
every  Indian  (man)  was  slain. 

"  I  took  the  women  and  children  prisoners,  .... 
and  we  found  we  had  to  remain  there  over  night  on 
account  of  the  suffering  of  our  wounded.  Fortunately 
the  next  morning  we  were  able  to  travel,  and  we 
marched  on  our  return  home,  bringing  the  women  and 
children.  We  found  that  these  women  could  speak 
Spanish  very  well,  and  had  been  neophytes,  and  that 
the  men  we  had  killed  had  been  the  same  who  had 
defeated  my  command  the  first  time,  and  were  likewise 
Mission  Indians. 

"  We  turned  the  women  and  children  over  to  the 
Mission  San  Gabriel,  where  they  remained.  These 
campaigns  left  our  district  wholly  free  from  Indian 
depredations  till  after  the  change  of  government," 


122   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Later  he  made  another  campaign  against  the  Cahuil- 
las  to  capture  two  renegades  who  had  taken  up  their 
residence  with  this  tribe,  had  corrupted  their  young 
men  and  were  leading  them  to  commit  depredations 
upon  the  ranches  of  the  district.  His  force  marched 
through  the  San  Gorgonio  pass,  through  which  the 
Southern  Pacific  railway  now  runs,  and  at  the  head  of 
the  Colorado  Desert  were  met  by  Cabezon  (Big  Head), 
the  General,  or  Head  Chief  of  all  the  Cahuilla  tribe. 
He  had  about  twenty  warriors  with  him  and  met  Wilson 
to  remonstrate  with  him  upon  his  going  upon  a  cam 
paign  against  his  people,  when  he  and  they  had  always 
been  friendly  to  the  whites.  Wilson  placed  Cabezon 
and  his  band  under  arrest,  but  finally  entered  into  an 
agreement  to  allow  the  Indian  chief  to  send  his  brother, 
Adam,  and  twelve  of  the  warriors  to  capture  the  two 
renegades,  dead  or  alive,  while  he  (Cabezon)  and  the 
rest  remained  as  hostages. 

"  I  told  them  to  go  on  their  errand  but  asking  them 
how  many  days  they  would  require  to  accomplish  it. 
They  asked  for  two  days  and  nights.  We  stayed  there 
that  night  and  all  the  next  day  with  the  most  oppres 
sive  heat  I  have  ever  experienced.  It  was  so  hot  that 
we  could  not  sit  down,  but  had  to  stand  up  and  fan 
ourselves  with  our  hats.  The  ground  would  burn  us 
when  we  attempted  to  sit.  Late  the  following  night 
the  chief  called  me,  and  asked  me  to  put  my  ear  to  the 
ground,  stating  that  he  heard  a  noise  and  his  men  were 
coming.  I  did  as  he  desired  and  heard  a  rumbling 
noise  which  at  every  moment  became  clearer.  In  the 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA        123 

course  of  an  hour  we  could  begin  to  hear  the  voices, 
and  the  old  chief  remarked  to  me  with  satisfaction  that 
it  was  all  right,  he  could  tell  by  the  singing  of  his  men 
that  they  had  been  successful  in  their  errand.  I 
ordered  thirty  men  to  mount  their  horses  and  go  to 
meet  them  to  see  if  it  was  all  right,  as  it  was  not  impos 
sible  those  Indians  were  coming  with  hostile  views. 
In  due  time  the  horsemen  came  back  and  reported 
that  they  believed  all  was  right.  I  had  my  men  under 
arms  and  waited  the  arrival  of  the  party  which  con 
sisted  of  forty  or  fifty  warriors.  Adam  ordered  the 
party  to  halt  some  four  hundred  yards  from  my  camp, 
himself  and  another  companion  advancing,  each  one 
carrying  the  head  of  one  of  the  malefactors  which  they 
threw  at  my  feet  with  evident  marks  of  pleasure  at  the 
successful  results  of  the  expedition.  Adam  at  this 
same  time  showed  me  an  arrow  wound  in  one  of  his 
thighs,  which  he  had  received  in  the  skirmish  that  took 
place  against  those  two  Christians  and  their  friends." 

These  accounts,  narrated  with  such  quiet  simplic 
ity,  give  us  a  most  vivid  picture  of  the  conditions  of 
those  days,  and,  as  they  relate  especially  to  the  Indians 
of  San  Gabriel  and  those  of  Cahuilla,  cannot  fail  to  be 
of  interest  to  the  readers  of  Ramona, 

To-day  there  is  scarce  an  Indian  to  be  found  at  or 
near  San  Gabriel.  By  the  kind  courtesy  of  Miss 
Katherine  Soper  I  am  able  to  reproduce  her  photograph 
of  an  old  Indian  woman  who  still  lives  there.  All 
the  rest  have  gone,  swept  away,  as  the  old  English 
divines  would  declare,  with  the  besom  of  destruction. 


i24   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

There  is  one  more  interesting  fact  about  San  Gabriel 
that  should  not  be  overlooked.  It  was  here  that  Jos 
eph  Chapman,  an  English  sailor,  was  brought,  after 
his  capture  at  Santa  Barbara  where  he  and  others 
landed  from  the  vessel  of  Bouchard,  the  privateer. 
His  life  was  spared,  owing  to  the  intervention  of  Padre 
Sanchez,  the  successor  of  Zalvidea,  and  he  settled 
down  and  married  into  one  of  the  best  Spanish  families 
of  California.  At  the  request  of  Sanchez  he  built,  at 
San  Gabriel,  a  sixty-ton  schooner.  That  is,  the  timbers 
were  all  prepared  and  shaped  here,  and  then,  on  mas 
sive  carretas,  made  expressly  for  the  purpose,  were 
conveyed  by  oxen  to  the  beach  at  San  Pedro,  put  to 
gether  and  launched.  The  vessel  was  used  for  many 
years  up  and  down  the  coast  for  trading,  but  was 
specifically  intended  for  otter  hunting,  the  skins  being 
much  prized  by  the  native  Californians,  whether 
Indians  or  Mexicans. 

To-day  San  Gabriel  is  rapidly  becoming  American 
ized.  The  Southern  Pacific  railway  trains  daily  dash 
by  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  Mission;  all  the  out 
buildings  where  Zalvidea' s  busy  family  toiled  have 
disappeared;  the  electric  cars  from  Los  Angeles  run 
right  up  to  the  very  door  of  the  Mission,  and  modern 
commercialism  is  rampant  where  once  only  the  quiet 
life  of  the  Indians  was  known. 

The  Mission  building,  erected  by  Zalvidea,  is  one 
of  the  few  structures  that  was  never  closed.  It  is  still 
used  as  the  parish  church,  but,  with  its  memories  of  the 
sainted  Somero,  Cambon,  Serra,  Palou,  and  other  of  the 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  RAMONA        125 

early  Missioners,  of  Zalvidea  the  energetic,  of  Sanchez 
his  successor,  of  Chapman  the  so-called  pirate,  of 
Victoria  the  deposed  governor,  of  Wilson  the  Indian 
fighter  and  many  others  of  the  old  regime,  it  must 
feel  that  it  has  fallen  upon  strange  times  to  find  itself 
at  the  terminus  of  an  electric  line,  which  daily  brings 
to  its  doors  scores  of  tourists  unacquainted  with  its 
history  or  traditions,  ignorant  of  its  former  usefulness, 
and  the  high  ambitions  of  its  founders,  and  entirely 
out  of  harmony  with  their  beneficent  and  laudable 
intent. 

Mrs.  J.  De  Earth  Shorb,  who  was  born  and  lived 
near  San  Gabriel  all  her  life,  once  unconsciously  paid 
a  wonderful  tribute  to  the  compelling  sympathetic 
power  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  at  the  same  time  testified 
to  the  fact  that  the  Indians  are  exceedingly  secretive, 
even  to  those  who  think  they  know  them  best. 

In  one  of  her  articles  Mrs.  Jackson  had  described  a 
certain  secret  shrine  she  had  been  taken  to  at  San 
Gabriel,  and  in  referring  to  this  Mrs.  Shorb  commented 
upon  the  author's  marvellous  power  of  invention  and 
imagination.  Said  she:  "  I  was  born  here  and  know 
all  these  people  and  I'm  sure  there  is  no  such  shrine 
in  existence.  I  have  never  heard  of  such  a  shrine." 

And  yet  it  really  existed.  With  Mrs.  Jackson's  swift 
entry  into  the  affections  of  Indians  and  Mexicans,  no 
matter  of  what  grade  of  intelligence,  they  had  taken  her 
to  this  spot  which,  "to  their  own  people,"  had  never 
been  revealed. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   RAMONA    JEWELS 

WAS  there  any  foundation  for  the  story  of  the 
Ramona  jewels  as  told  by  Mrs.  Jackson?  This, 
it  will  be  remembered,  in  brief,  is  as  follows:  When 
the  dying  Senora  Ortegna  brought  to  her  sister, 
the  Senora  Moreno,  the  baby  Ramona,  she  brought 
also  a  box  containing  rubies,  emeralds,  pearls,  and 
yellow  diamonds.  These  were  to  be  given  to  Ra 
mona  on  her  wedding  day.  These  jewels  several 
times  come  into  dramatic  play  in  the  story,  as, 
for  instance  (Chapter  XI)  where  the  Senora  hoped  to 
tempt  Ramona  to  give  up  Alessandro  by  displaying 
the  jewels  to  her,  and  reminding  her  that  it  was 
only  if  she  "  married  worthily,"  according  to  the 
Senora's  standpoint,  would  they  be  hers.  And  the 
Senora  was  much  astonished  when  the  only  interest 
the  girl  took  in  the  jewels  was  to  ask  for  the  ragged, 
crimson  silk  handkerchief  of  her  father's  in  which  the 
pearls  had  been  wrapped. 

Again,  when  Felipe  discovered  the  jewels,  and  at  the 
same  time  awoke  to  his  mother's  duplicity,  to  find  her 
dead  the  next  moment, —  how  dramatic  the  scene. 
Only  a  master  writer  could  have  planned  for  and 
worked  out  such  a  tableau. 


THE    RAMONA   JEWELS  127 

Naturally  many  thousands  who  have  read  Ramona 
have  asked  the  question:  Is  there  any  foundation  in 
fact  for  the  story  of  the  jewels?  In  answer  let  me  quote 
the  explicit  story  told  in  Out  West  for  December,  1903, 
by  Carlyle  C.  Davis. 

"  Ramona  was  a  creation  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 
She  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  happy  blending  of  two 
characters  of  the  Del  Valle  household  —  Blanca  Yndart, 
a  Spanish  girl,  a  ward  of  Sefiora  del  Valle ;  and  Guada- 
lupe,  a  Mission  Indian  girl,  given  to  the  Sefiora,  when 
a  child,  by  a  Saboba  chief.  Blanca  was  the  only  child 
of  U.  Yndart,  a  resident  of  Santa  Barbara.  Her 
mother,  dying  when  the  child  was  five  years  of  age, 
committed  her  to  the  keeping  of  Senora  del  Valle,  and 
she  lived  at  Camulos  Ranch  as  one  of  the  family  until 
she  was  fourteen.  Then  her  father  took  a  second  wife, 
and  Blanca  returned  to  the  parental  roof,  living  there 
until  her  own  marriage,  four  years  later,  to  James 
Maguire.  Upon  the  death  of  her  husband,  some  years 
ago,  Blanca,  with  her  two  children,  removed  to  Los 
Angeles,  and  now  resides  on  First  Street.  She  is  the 
one  human  document  who  may  in  truth  be  regarded 
as  the  '  Ramona  '  of  the  story.  She  is  of  the  purest 
Spanish  blood,  both  father  and  mother  having  been 
born  in  Castile;  and  at  forty-two  is  still  a  woman  of 
exceptional  beauty.  Her  grandfather,  Captain  Yndart, 
was  a  sea-faring  man,  more  or  less  familiar  with  all 
the  navigable  waters  of  the  globe.  In  his  world 
wanderings,  covering  a  period  of  forty  years,  he  accum 
ulated  a  chest  of  treasures  of  surpassing  beauty  and 


128   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

worth,  and  these  are  the  '  Ramona  jewels.'  For  years 
they  were  held  in  trust  by  Seiiora  del  Valle  (Senora 
Moreno)  for  Blanca  Yndart  (Ramona),  when  she  should 
be  married;  and  they  are  still  in  the  possession  of  Mrs. 
Maguire.  They  consist,  in  the  main,  of  a  large  cross 
of  pearls  of  rare  purity  and  unusual  size,  a  rosary  of 
pearls,  and  a  single  pearl,  pear-shaped,  of  extraor 
dinary  dimensions,  and  valued  at  several  thousand 
dollars,  '  tray  after  tray  of  jewels/  an  East  Indian 
shawl  of  texture  so  delicate  that  it  can  be  drawn 
through  an  ordinary  ringer  ring;  a  number  of  dainty 
kerchiefs,  and  other  rich  and  costly  fabrics  from  the 
Orient  — '  shawls  and  rebosos  of  damask,  laces, 
gowns  of  satin,  of  velvet.'  A  daughter  of  Captain 
Yndart,  who  subsequently  married  a  cousin  of  the 
same  name,  was  living  at  Santa  Barbara  when  the  old 
sea  captain  paid  his  last  visit  to  this  coast.  Having 
a  presentiment  that  he  would  not  survive  another 
voyage,  he  left  the  chest  of  treasures  with  his  daughter, 
with  instructions  as  to  their  disposition  at  his  death. 
They  were  to  be  divided  between  his  two  grandchildren, 
Blanca  and  Pancho  Yndart,  the  latter  a  cousin  of  the 
former.  Blanca's  mother  was  delicate,  and  realizing 
that  she  would  not  live  to  see  her  daughter  married, 
she  provided  that  at  her  death,  Blanca  should  be 
taken  into  the  Del  Valle  family  at  Camulos,  Dona 
Ysabel  being  her  nearest  and  dearest  friend.  Mrs. 
Yndart,  unwilling  to  trust  others  with  the  jewels,  her 
self  took  them  to  the  ranch,  and  it  is  said  that  not  even 
her  own  husband  knew  of  their  existence.  This  was 


THE  RAMONA  JEWELS  129 

before  the  era  of  railroads  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  the 
route  chosen,  along  the  beach,  was  safe  enough  when 
the  tide  was  out,  but  a  miscalculation  was  made,  and 
in  rounding  the  promontory  just  above  San  Buena 
ventura,  in  water  reaching  almost  to  the  seat  of  the 
vehicle,  Mrs.  Yndart  and  the  treasures  narrowly 
escaped  being  washed  into  the  sea.  Pancho  long 
supposed  his  inheritance  was  lost,  and  it  is  said  that 
the  first  intimation  he  had  to  the  contrary  was  gained 
from  his  reading  of  the  story  of  Ramona.  Upon  the 
death  of  her  mother,  Blanca  went  to  Camulos  and 
remained  there  for  nine  years,  wholly  unconscious  of 
the  existence  of  the  jewels,  or  that  such  a  rich  marriage 
dot  awaited  her.  This  was  strictly  in  accord  with  the 
wishes  of  her  mother,  which  were  sacredly  respected 
by  the  Senora  del  Valle.  For  thirteen  years,  and 
until  Blanca's  wedding,  the  jewels  remained  in  a 
stout  chest  beneath  the  bed  of  the  Senora,  unseen  by 
others. 

"  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  never  saw  Blanca  or  the 
jewels,  but  received  the  story  from  Dona  Mariana 
Coronel,  years  afterwards.  The  little  Indian  girl,  ward 
of  Dona  Ysabel,  was  at  Camulos  when  she  visited  there. 
She  learned  from  members  of  the  household  of  the 
relations  of  the  child  to  Blanca,  corresponding  with  the 
relations  of  'Margarita'  to  'Ramona'  in  the  romance. 
The  story  of  the  girl  had  also  been  told  to  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson  by  Dona  Mariana.  But  there  is  a  sequel 
to  it  which  the  former  never  heard.  It  may  be  told 
in  a  few  words,  and  is  well  worth  the  telling. 


130   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

"Notwithstanding  their  lineage  and  the  traditions 
connecting  them  with  Mexican  rule,  the  Del  Valles  have 
never,  since  American  occupation,  been  wanting  in  loy 
alty  to  the  United  States  government.  There  have 
been  numerous  occasions  for  the  visit  of  regular  army 
officers  to  various  points  in  Southern  California,  and 
in  passing  up  and  down  the  coast  it  was  the  good 
fortune  of  many  of  them  to  enjoy  the  hospitality  of 
Camulos  Ranch.  They  were  always  sure  of  a  cordial 
welcome  there,  especially  at  the  hands  of  the  elder  Del 
Valle,  who,  in  his  declining  years,  took  especial  delight 
in  recounting  with  those  military  gentlemen  the  thrill 
ing  events  that  had  transpired  in  this  borderland. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  a  visit  of  Captain  G ,  of  the 

th  United  States  Cavalry,  to  the  ranch,  he  was 

struck  with  the  singular  beauty  of  the  little  Indian 
girl,  whom  he  saw  flitting  in  and  out  of  the  court. 
Turning  to  a  companion,  a  citizen  of  Los  Angeles, 
who  had  accompanied  him  on  this  journey,  he  inquired 
with  some  agitation:  'Who  is  that  girl?  Why,  she 
is  the  exact  image  of  my  sister!  '  His  friend  could 
only  say  that  she  was  an  Indian,  given  to  the  family 
by  a  Saboba  chief,  but  adding  that  the  hostess  would 
doubtless  tell  him  all  that  was  known  of  her.  An 
interview  with  Dona  Ysabel  was  immediately  sought, 
followed  by  a  talk  with  the  girl  and  a  brief  explanation, 
and  when  the  officer  left  Camulos  he  took  with  him  to 
his  post,  in  Arizona,  the  child  who  bore  such  a  striking 
resemblance  to  his  family.  It  was  natural  for  the  father 
to  want  his  daughter.  The  child  had  known  no  mother 


THE  RAMONA  JEWELS  131 

save  the  kind  Sefiora  delValle,and  the  parting  with  her 
was  of  course  painful.  Her  own  mother  had  been  lost 
sight  of  in  the  wanderings  of  the  tribe  after  their 
expulsion  from  Temecula." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    ORIGINAL   OF    JIM    FARRAR 

1XTRS.  JACKSON  has  herself  indicated  unmistakably 
•*•*•*•  who  was  the  original  of  the  Jim  Farrar  of  Ramona. 
I  was  driving  one  day  with  a  friend  up  the  San  Jacinto 
mountains,  from  Hemet.  We  were  enjoying  the 
beautiful  section  of  wild  wood  through  which  the  road 
winds,  here  and  there  catching  glimpses  of  the  foaming 
waters  of  the  creek  dashing  over  the  boulders  on  their 
way  to  the  valley.  As  we  approached  a  watering- 
trough,  conveniently  placed  on  the  road  side,  we 
heard  the  jingle  of  bells,  which  teamsters  on  these 
narrow  mountain  roads  always  place  on  their  horses, 
that  those  traveling  in  the  opposite  direction  may 
early  arrange  for  passing  at  a  convenient  and  wide 
enough  stretch  of  road.  As  this  team  came  in  sight 
we  saw  it  was  loaded  with  lumber.  The  horses,  eight 
in  number,  were  fine  animals,  one  of  them,  particularly, 
being  a  stallion  of  good  breed,  fine  build  and  graceful 
proportion.  My  companion  at  once  whispered  to  me: 
"That's  Sam  Temple,  —  Jim  Farrar,"  and  there, 
sitting  on  the  box,  handling  the  lines  with  the  sure 
grasp  of  a  master  horseman  and  teamster,  was  the  origi 
nal  of  the  murderer  of  the  hero  of  Mrs.  Jackson's 


ORIGINAL  OF  JIM  FARRAR  133 

Ramona.  A  heavy-featured,  strong- jawed,  thick-nos- 
triled,  broad-browed,  coarse-lipped,  keen-eyed,  self- 
indulgent  face,  crowned  with  a  head  of  coal-black  hair, 
dominated  a  strong,  well-set,  muscular  body  of  some 
five  and  a  half  feet  in  height.  A  strong  man,  self- 
willed,  proud  and  haughty,  yet  inclined  to  gratify  his 
own  appetites  and  passions  at  any  cost,  and  not  con 
tent  to  struggle  with  the  lower  in  his  nature  that  the 
higher  might  control. 

We  were  introduced  to  each  other  and,  from  that 
time  on,  our  relationship  was  of  a  most  friendly  char 
acter  on  his  side,  though  it  was  characterized  by  great 
'frankness  and  plainness  of  speech  on  mine.  I  think 
the  rude  nature  of  the  man,  naturally  a  braggart  and  a 
bully,  long  used  to  the  cringing,  yielding  or  timid  de 
meanor  of  those  who  perforce  associated  with  him  and 
"  wanted  no  trouble  with  him,"  was  flattered  by  my 
unusual  utterance  of  thoughts  which  few,  if  any,  had 
ever  before  expressed  to  him.  I  talked  many  times 
with  him  about  the  killing  of  Juan  Diego,  and 
I  once  took  my  graphophone  to  his  house,  into  which 
he  told  his  story  of  the  killing  of  Juan  Diego.  In 
effect  it  is  as  follows:  "  I  had  long  known  there  was 
a  band  of  horse  thieves  operating  in  the  San  Jacinto 
mountains,  so  I  was  pretty  angry  and  disturbed  when 
I  awoke  one  morning  to  find  one  of  my  finest  horses, 
a  beautiful  black,  which  I  had  placed  with  his  mates 
the  night  before  in  the  corral  at  Hewett's  hotel,  in 
San  Jacinto,  gone.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  he  had 
been  taken  by  one  of  this  thieving  gang  so  I  prepared 


i34   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

to  track  him  and  bring  him  back  at  all  hazards.  I 
borrowed  a  shot  gun  and  loaded  both  barrels  with  buck 
shot,  and  then  to  make  sure  got  a  six-shooter  as  well. 

"  Throwing  a  saddle  onto  another  of  my  horses  I 
followed  the  tracks  up  the  mountains,  until  after  riding 
nearly  all  day  I  came  to  a  little  ridge.  Just  as  I  rose 
to  the  crest  I  saw  a  house,  and  close  by,  tied  to  a  tree, 
was  my  stolen  animal.  I  went  down  and  tied  the 
horse  I  was  riding  alongside  of  the  other,  and  then 
a  woman  (Ramona)  asked  me  what  I  wanted.  I  told 
her  I  had  come  for  my  horse.  Just  then  her  man, 
Juan  Diego,  came  to  the  door,  and  I  said  to  him: 
'Where  did  you  get  that  horse?'  He  replied:  'At 
the  corral  of  the  Seiior  Hewett!  '  '  Didn't  you  know 
that  horse  wasn't  yours?  '  I  then  asked,  and  he  replied, 
'Si,  Sefior!' 

"  During  this  conversation  we  had  been  coming  nearer 
and  nearer  to  each  other:  at  first  then  I  noticed  that, 
carried  in  his  hand,  with  the  long  blade  hidden  up  his 
sleeve,  was  a  dangerous  looking  knife.  I  stopped 
and  told  him  to  stop  where  he  was.  Instead  of  stopping 
he  made  a  sudden  lunge  at  me,  lowering  his  knife 
into  his  hand  as  he  did  so.  I  had  no  time  to  lower  my 
gun  and  take  proper  aim,  but  letting  it  rest  in  the 
hollow  of  my  arm  I  aimed  it  at  him  as  well  as  I  could 
and  let  fly  with  both  barrels.  Though  I  afterwards 
counted  and  found  I  had  sent  sixty-seven  buck 
shot  clear  through  him,  it  did  not  stop  him  at  the 
moment,  for  he  still  struck  at  me  with  his  knife. 
Turning  my  gun  I  used  it  as  a  club  and  struck  him  a 


Sam  Temple,  the  slayer  of  Juan  Diego,  hauling  lumber  down  the  San 
Jacinto  Mountains 

Page  132 


Judge  Tripp  (Wells")  and  Jim  Farrar  (Sam  Temple")  at  the  house  where 
the  latter  was  tried  for  the  murder  of  Juan  Diego 

Page  135 


Mrs.  Jordan,  the  original  of  Aunt  Ri 

Page  141 


An  Indian  home  at  Pachanga,  Southern  California 

Page  92 


ORIGINAL  OF  JIM  FARRAR  135 

hard  blow  on  the  back  of  the  head  with  it,  breaking 
the  stock  in  so  doing.  He  fell  to  the  ground,  but  such 
was  his  viciousness,  that  even  there  he  struck  at  me 
again  and  again.  Drawing  my  revolver  I  put  three 
or  four  shots  from  that  into  him  before  he  was  quiet. 

"  Then  I  untied  my  two  horses,  changed  the  saddle 
onto  the  stolen  horse  and  returned  to  town  where  I 
gave  myself  up  to  Judge  Tripp,  the  justice.  After 
hearing  the  evidence  he  turned  me  loose,  as  he  was 
bound  to  do,  on  the  plea  of  self  defense. 

"  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  the  Indian  I  killed  was 
the  leader  of  the  gang  of  thieves,  and  I'll  tell  you  why. 
After  I  killed  him  horse-stealing  practically  ceased  in 
this  region,  and  if  that  ain't  good  proof  I'd  like  to 
know  what  is." 

Later  I  saw  Ramona,  as  related  in  another  chapter, 
and  she  told  her  story  into  the  same  machine. 

It  is  well  here  to  state,  that,  while  Ramona's  story, 
partially  in  her  own  language  and  partially  in  Spanish, 
can  be  heard  from  the  graphophone  cylinder  by  one 
whose  hearing  is  acute,  she  was  so  frightened  by  the 
strangeness  of  the  machine,  so  sure  it  was  "  bad  medi 
cine,"  and  controlled  by  witchcraft  or  the  powers  of 
evil,  that  the  narrative  is  disconnected  and  at  times 
scarcely  resolvable  into  words.  Hence  I  have  not 
attempted  any  verbatim  reproduction  of  it,  or  of  a 
translation.  Its  purport,  however,  is  clearly  denoted 
in  the  story  pertaining  to  her  basket  which  is  related 
in  another  chapter. 

The  Temple  record  was  made  in  his  own  house  at 


136   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

San  Jacinto,  where  he  had  invited  me  to  visit  him. 
He  was  married  at  that  time  to  an  Irishwoman,  and  a 
few  days  before  my  arrival  there  had  been  a  domestic 
quarrel  when  Sam  had  exercised  his  masculine  pre 
rogative  by  whipping  his  better  half.  On  listening 
to  the  complaint  of  the  wife,  the  city  marshal  or 
sheriff  had  warned  Sam  that,  on  an  attempted  repeti 
tion  of  the  offence,  he  would  place  him  under  arrest 
and  give  his  anger  an  opportunity  to  cool  in  the  city 
calabozo.  Two  weeks  before  I  arrived,  Sam's  temper 
had  got  the  better  of  him,  and  Mrs.  Temple's  cries 
aroused  the  neighbors,  who  hastily  sent  for  the  marshal. 
Not  caring  to  make  the  arrest  himself,  this  official  sent 
his  constable,  Robert  M.  McKim,  a  quaint  Ken- 
tuckian,  who  for  eleven  years  had  been  a  Pinkerton 
detective, —  with  orders  to  bring  in  his  "man."  On 
reaching  the  house  night  was  approaching  and  Sam, 
hearing  footsteps,  called  out:  "Who's  there?"  He 
had  already  sent  word  to  the  marshal  that  he  would 
not  be  taken  alive  and  would  shoot  any  one  who 
attempted  to  arrest  him.  McKim  replied:  "  It's  me, 
Sam,  I've  got  a  warrant  for  you,  and  I've  got  to  take 
you  dead  or  alive!  "  Temple's  reply  was  a  shot  from 
his  revolver,  which  however  went  wild.  Not  so  the 
constable's  shot,  which  struck  its  mark  in  Sam's  arm, 
going  through  the  fleshy  part  above  the  elbow.  "  That's 
enough.  I  quit!"  yelled  Sam.  "Throw  out  your 
gun,"  commanded  McKim.  "  Now  stand  clear  in 
the  light  from  under  that  porch  and  throw  up  your 
hands,"  shouted  the  officer.  "  How  can  I  do  it 


ORIGINAL  OF  JIM  FARRAR  137 

when  you've  winged  me?  "  wailed  the  now  sober 
wife-beater. 

The  next  moment  as  he  stepped  out,  McKim  was 
by  his  side,  and,  finding  him  wounded  and  unarmed, 
pleasantly  chatted  with  him  on  the  way  to  the  jail, 
where,  after  having  his  arm  bandaged,  he  was  locked 
up.  For  two  weeks  he  was  kept  in  prison,  and  then, 
owing  to  certain  wire-pulling,  and  as  the  officers  of  the 
law  deemed  him  punished  enough  by  his  wound,  he 
was  released,  after  giving  his  bond  to  ensure  his  good 
behavior  in  the  future.  It  was  the  day  after  his  re 
lease  that  I  appeared  on  the  scene. 

It  was  into  this  household  that  my  presence  was 
suddenly  obtruded.  In  spite  of  his  reckless  rudeness, 
there  was  a  certain  nobleness  about  Temple  when  the 
better  part  of  him  was  called  upon.  His  manners  at 
times  justified  his  claim  that  he  was  an  immediate 
descendant  (a  son)  of  Judge  Temple  of  Virginia.  He 
said  his  mother  was  a  full-blooded  Cherokee  Indian. 

His  one  great  love  on  earth  was  his  horses.  As  a 
teamster  he  took  great  care  of  them,  and  the  stallion  to 
which  I  have  before  referred  was  his  especial  pet  and 
pride. 

A  few  years  ago  he  left  the  neighborhood  of  San 
Jacinto  and  went  down  to  Yuma,  and  there  I  came 
across  him  on  the  occasion  of  my  first  rowing  trip 
down  the  Colorado  River  from  Needles  to  Yuma  in  the 
year  1908. 

Soon  after  I  heard  that  he  was  dead.  Possibly 
he  has  already  answered  to  the  final  tribunal  for 


138   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

what  the  major  part  of  the  civilized  world  regarded  as  a 
dastardly  crime. 

When  Sam  Temple  gave  himself  up  he  knew  full 
well  that  he  was  perfectly  safe.  Public  sentiment  was 
generally  in  favor  of  the  white  man  as  against  the 
Indian,  anyhow,  and  especially  in  any  matter  which 
meant  the  safeguarding  of  the  former's  horses  and 
cattle.  In  California  the  testimony  of  no  Indian  or 
Chinaman  is  allowed  to  weigh  against  that  of  a  white 
man,  hence,  as  he  and  Ramona  alone  could  have  told 
the  truth,  his  story,  no  matter  how  true  or  how  false, 
was  the  only  story  that  had  any  effect. 

He  claimed  in  justification  of  his  deed  that  there  had 
been  a  great  deal  of  horse  stealing  going  on  in  the  vi 
cinity  for  a  number  of  years, and  recently  the  operations 
seemed  to  indicate  that  a  gang  with  a  thorough  organ 
ization  was  become  more  perniciously  active.  Tem 
ple  claimed  that  Juan  Diego  was  one  of  the  leaders  of 
this  gang,  and  that  his  "  loco  "  was  a  mere  pretence  to 
throw  people  off  their  guard,  and  that  he  did  the  coun 
try  a  good  service  in  ridding  it  of  an  unmitigated 
scoundrel.  The  testimony  of  those  who  knew  Juan 
Diego  intimately,  and  had  known  and  employed 
him  for  many  years,  would  seem  to  offset  Temple's 
charges. 

Anyhow  it  can  well  be  seen  that  no  local  jury,  under 
the  circumstances,  after  hearing  Temple's  story,  and 
taking  into  cognizance  the  accepted  fact  that  the  horse 
had  been  taken  away  from  the  public  corral  where  it 
was  placed  for  the  night,  could  do  any  other  than  bring 


ORIGINAL  OF  JIM  FARRAR  139 

in  a  verdict  of  "  Not  Guilty,  "  hence  Temple  walked 
away  a  free  man. 

He  never  seemed  to  show  the  slightest  regret  or 
remorse  for  the  act;  indeed  the  reverse  was  the  case. 
He  prided  himself  on  "having  rid  the  country  of  a 
dangerous  leader  of  a  gang  of  horse  thieves  who  were 
railroading  the  best  horses  out  of  the  country,"  and 
thus  breaking  up  the  operations  of  the  gang.  Indeed 
so  did  he  glorify  his  own  action  that  during  the  World's 
Fairs,  both  at  Chicago  and  St.  Louis,  he  thought  he 
saw  a  great  chance  to  win  money  and  fame  by  posing 
there  as  the  man  who  killed  Alessandro.  When  he  ap 
proached  me  in  regard  to  the  proposition  that  I  should 
"  finance  and  manage  "  this  enterprise,  receiving  a  due 
share  of  the  profits,  he  seemed  somewhat  taken 
aback  when  I  jokingly  (but  with  a  great  deal  more  of 
seriousness  and  earnestness  than  appeared  in  my  face 
and  manner)  declared  that  I  would  far  rather  raise 
money  to  have  him  tried  and  hanged  for  his  crime  than 
to  send  him  to  the  World's  Fair  to  pose  as  a  hero. 

Mrs.  Temple  was  a  stout,  rather  irascible,  out 
spoken,  ignorant  and  illiterate  emigrant  from  the 
Emerald  Isle.  Her  irascibility  and  temper  are  easily 
understandable  when  one  remembers  the  cause  of 
Sam's  injured  arm.  Most  any  woman  would  be  irascible 
to  her  husband's  friends  and  acquaintances  the  day 
after  he  had  tried  (and  I  guess  succeeded)  in  soundly 
thrashing  her.  But  I  smoothed  matters  over  as  well  as 
I  knew  how,  and  by  and  by  the  conversation  drifted 
on  to  the  Indians. 


i4o   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"Oi'm  sure  I  dunno  whoy  yez  takes  so  much  intherest 
in  those  dommed  Injuns.  They're  no  good.  Whoy 
they  ain't  civilized,  the  miserable  haythens.  They're 
worse  than  naygurs.  I've  no  use  for  them." 

Naturally,  I  thought,  here  is  a  woman  with  her  face 
pounded  and  scratched  and  looking  like  raw  beefsteak, 
a  woman  who  has  just  had  a  fight  with  her  husband, 
and  yet  she  has  no  use  for  the  Indians,  because  they 
are  not  civilized  and  are  worse  than  niggers. 

"  O  wad  some  Pow'r  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  oursel's  as  others  see   us!" 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    ORIGINAL   OF    AUNT   RI 

TT  will  be  remembered  that  when  Ramona  and 
•*•  Alessandro  were  caught  in  the  snow-storm  they  were 
rescued  by  Aunt  Ri  and  her  husband.  The  original 
of  Aunt  Ri,  who  is  made  an  interesting  character  in 
Ramona,  is  now  a  merry,  bright-eyed,  witty  old  lady 
of  seventy-six  years  of  age,  who  lives  at  San  Jacinto. 
She  is  full  of  reminiscences  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visits  to 
her,  and  also  of  Juan  Diego  and  Ramona,  both  of  whom 
she  knew  well. 

"  Alessandro?  His  name  wasn't  really  Alessandro. 
It  was  Juan  Diego.  We  used  to  call  him  '  Crazy 
Juan.'  He  wasn't  really  crazy;  he  was  smart  enough. 
He  used  to  get  spells.  No,  not  crazy  spells,  but  it 
seemed  as  though  the  devil  got  into  him,  and  yet  he 
was  generally  harmless.  Everybody  knew  him  and 
trusted  him.  There  was  no  real  harm  in  him.  When 
Sam  Temple  came  in  that  morning  and  told  me  some 
one  had  run  away  with  his  horse,  and  I  saw  Juan's 
mean  little  pony  there  in  its  stead,  I  told  him  I'd  bet 
anything  that  Juan  had  taken  it  when  he  had  a  spell 
on.  You  see,  I'd  seen  Juan  the  night  before,  and  it 
was  me  that  had  persuaded  him  to  stay  over  night. 


i42   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Sam  swore  he  was  a  -  -  horse  thief  and  he'd  follow 
him  and  kill  him.  And  so  he  did.  But  he  didn't 
ought  to  have  done  it.  Juan  would  surely  have  brought 
the  horse  back  if  he'd  waited  a  little  while." 

"  So  you  knew  Sam  Temple?  "  I  asked. 

"Knew  him!"  was  the  quick  response;  "nobody 
better.  He  used  to  stay  at  my  house  a  great  deal, 
and  put  his  horses  in  our  corral.  He  was  a  big  bully 
and  everybody  was  scared  of  him,  but  one  day  he  met 
his  match  in  a  little  woman."  And  Mrs.  Jordan  had 
to  stop  and  laugh  heartily  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
scene.  "  Oh,  he'd  got  to  quarreling  with  some  man 
or  other  in  my  kitchen,  and  I  wanted  Mr.  Jordan  and 
some  other  men  to  go  in  and  interfere.  I  didn't  want 
any  rowing  and  bloodshedding  in  my  kitchen.  They 
were  all  afraid,  so  I  went  and  threw  open  the  door  and 
stamped  my  foot  at  Sam  and  said :  '  See  here,  Sam, 
don't  you  dare  get  up  a  fight  in  my  kitchen.  Be  quiet 
or  get  out/ 

"  Sam  got  out. 

"  As  for  Ramona,  she  was  an  Indian  girl  who  lived 
up  in  Cahuilla,  and  occasionally  used  to  drift  down 
here.  When  she  was  quite  young  she  was  a  fairly 
good-looking  girl.  Her  being  the  adopted  daughter 
of  the  rich  Del  Valle  family  (the  Morenos  of  the 
story)  was  all  fiction,  of  course.  All  that  about  Ales- 
sandro  being  driven  from  Saboba  was  imaginary,  for 
he  never  lived  there.  The  part  about  the  sick  child 
and  the  murder  are  true.  The  child  was  brought  to 
my  house.  I  gave  Ramona  medicine  for  it,  but  I 


ORIGINAL   OF   AUNT   RI  143 

couldn't  take  them  into  the  house,  so  I  found  them 
quarters  in  a  sheep  camp  over  yonder  (Chapter  XXII) 
and  gave  them  food  while  they  tended  the  sick  child. 
When  it  died  I  myself  tore  boards  off  my  barn  to 
make  the  little  coffin  in  which  it  was  buried." 

Many  of  these  facts,  given  to  Mrs.  Jackson  by  Mrs. 
Jordan  herself,  are  woven  into  the  story.  The  descrip 
tion  of  Aunt  Ri  (Chapter  XXII)  by  no  means  fits  Mrs. 
Jordan.  "The  woman,  tall,  ungainly,  her  face  gaunt, 
her  hands  hardened  and  wrinkled,  gown  ragged, 
shoes  ragged,  her  dry  and  broken  light  hair  wound  in 
a  careless,  straggling  knot  in  her  neck,  wisps  of  it  flying 
over  her  forehead,  was  certainly  not  a  prepossessing 
figure.  Yet  spite  of  her  careless,  unkempt  condition, 
there  was  a  certain  gentle  dignity  in  her  bearing,  and 
a  kindliness  in  her  glance,  which  won  trust  and  warmed 
hearts  at  once." 

The  reason  for  making  Mrs.  Jordan  a  Tennessean 
and  giving  to  her  a  rude  and  rough  dialect  was  that 
Mrs.  Jackson  might  there  show  what  is  suggested 
above,  that  among  white  people  it  is  not  always  the 
well-dressed  and  cultured,  the  educated  and  refined, 
who  have  a  monopoly  of  tenderness,  kindliness  and  the 
real  brotherhood  of  mankind. 

So  it  was  to  Aunt  Ri,  the  rude  and  uncouth,  but  the 
tender  and  loving,  that  Ramona  desired  to  have  her 
baby  taken  when  she  feared  it  would  not  live  (Chapter 
XXIII)  and  this  the  Cahuilla  Ramona  actually  did  do, 
as  related  in  the  chapter  devoted  to  her  experiences. 

And  it  was  Aunt  Ri  who  took  Felipe  to  Cahuilla 


144   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

when  Ramona  lay  there  sick  unto  death  because  of 
Alessandro's  murder  (Chapter  XXV),  who  nursed  the 
poor  widow  through  her  illness,  and  who  finally, 
owing  to  the  enlarged  knowledge  she  had  gained  of  the 
Indians  during  her  stay  at  Cahuilla,  left  them,  declar 
ing:  "  I'll  never  hear  a  word  said  agin  'em,  never,  ter 
my  longest  day.  .  .  .  I'm  done  talkin'  agin  Injuns, 
naow,  don't  you  furgit  it!  But  I  know,  fur  all  that,  't 
won't  make  any  diffurence;  'pears  like  there  cuddn't 
nobody  b'leeve  enny  thin'  'n  this  world  'thout  seein' 
Jt  their  selves.  I  wuz  thet  way,  tew;  I  allow  I  hain't 
got  no  call  ter  talk;  but  I  jest  wish  the  hull  world 
could  see  what  I've  seen!  Thet's  all!  " 

And  she  disappears  from  the  scene  after  asking  the 
Indian  agent  some  very  pointed  and  pertinent  ques 
tions  which  I  am  assured  Mrs.  Jackson  felt  like  asking 
every  Indian  agent  with  whom  she  came  in  contact. 
She  was  anxious  to  get  at  the  work  the  agent  was  re 
quired  to  perform.  His  answers,  to  say  the  least,  were 
ambiguous  and  unsatisfactory.  Aunt  Ri  replies, 
"Thet's  jest  it.  Thet's  what  I've  ben  seein';  and 
thet's  why  I  want  so  bad  ter  git  at  what  't  is  the 
Guvvermunt  means  ter  hev  yeou  dew  fur  'em.  I  allow 
ef  yeou  ain't  ter  feed  'em,  an'  ef  yer  can't  put  folks 
inter  jail  fer  robbin'  'n  cheatin'  'em,  not  ter  say  killin' 
'em, —  ef  yer  can't  dew  ennythin'  more  'n  keep  'em 
from  gettin'  whiskey,  wall,  I'm  free  ter  say  —  I'm 
free  ter  say,  I  shouldn't  like  ter  stan'  in  yer  shoes." 


The  peach  trees  planted  by  Juan  Diego 

Page   154 


In  Juan  Diego    Valley  near  Mt.   San 

Jacinto,  where  Alessandro 

took  Ramona 

Page   154 


Ruins  of  the  house  occupied  by  Ramona 

and  Jufin  Diego,  and  where  the  latter 

was  killed 

Page   154 


The  wild    roses  near  Ramona 's    cottage, 

where  Majella  u-as  born,  in  the  San 

Jacinto  Mountains 

Page  154 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   VILLAGE   OF    SABOBA    AND   RAMONA 

\  FTER  the  eviction  at  SanPasqualeitwill  be  remem- 
•*  *•  bered  (by  readers  of  the  novel)  that  Alessandro  de 
sired  to  go  to  the  mountains  where  he  and  his  beloved 
would  be  free  from  all  further  disturbances  by  white 
men.  But  when  Ramona  expressed  her  fear  of  living  in 
so  lonely  a  place,  he  bethought  him  of  Saboba.  Thither 
would  they  wend  their  way  and,  if  allowed  to  do  so, 
remain.  And  surely  no  one  would  wish  to  disturb  them 
there.  Mrs.  Jackson  makes  her  hero  say:  "  There  was 
a  kind,  good  old  man  who  owned  all  that  valley, — 
Senor  Ravallo;  he  found  the  village  of  Saboba  there 
when  he  came  to  the  country.  It  is  one  of  the  very 
oldest  of  all;  he  was  good  to  all  Indians,  and  he  said 
they  should  never  be  disturbed,  never.  He  is  dead; 
but  his  three  sons  have  the  estate  yet,  and  I  think  they 
would  keep  their  father's  promise  to  the  Indians." 

In  their  wagon,  Baba  and  Benito  drawing  them,  her 
baby  on  her  lap,  Ramona  and  Alessandro  entered  the 
San  Jacinto  valley.  Here  a  fierce  snow-storm  sur 
rounded  them,  and  they  were  all  in  danger  of  being 
frozen  to  death.  But  help  was  at  hand.  Aunt  Ri 
appeared  upon  the  scene.  Later  they  settled  at 
Saboba,  which  Mrs.  Jackson  thus  describes: 


146   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"  It  was  but  a  poverty-stricken  little  handful,  to  be 
sure;  still,  they  were  unmolested ;  the  valley  was  large; 
their  stock  ran  free;  the  few  white  settlers,  one  at  the 
upper  end  and  two  or  three  on  the  south  side,  had 
manifested  no  disposition  to  crowd  the  "Indians." 

Later  she  says:  "  But  Ramona  knew  many  things 
that  Alessandro  did  not.  While  he  had  been  away 
on  his  hunts,  she  had  had  speech  with  many  a  one  he 
never  saw.  She  had  gone  to  the  store  and  post-office 
several  times,  to  exchange  baskets  or  lace  for  flour, 
and  she  had  heard  talk  there  which  had  disquieted 
her.  She  did  not  believe  that  Saboba  was  safe.  One 
day  she  had  heard  a  man  say,  '  If  there  is  a  drought 
we  shall  have  the  devil  to  pay  with  our  stock  before 
winter  is  over.'  '  Yes,'  said  another,  '  and  look 
at  those  damned  Indians  over  there  in  Saboba,  with 
water  running  all  the  time  in  their  village!  It's  a 
shame  they  should  have  that  spring ! ' 

"  When  Ramona  went  home  that  evening  she  went 
down  to  the  spring  in  the  center  of  the  village,  and 
stood  a  long  time  looking  at  the  bubbling  water.  It 
was  indeed  a  priceless  treasure;  a  long,  irrigating  ditch 
led  from  it  down  into  the  bottom,  where  lay  the  culti 
vated  fields." 

The  capitan  of  the  village  at  the  time  Mrs.  Jackson 
wrote  was  the  famous  Victoriano,  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  old,  and  his  wife  was  an  equally  vigorous 
looking  old  lady.  Many  a  story  have  I  listened  to,  of 
their  telling,  of  the  days  before  the  rapacious  white 
man  came  and  deprived  them  of  their  inheritance. 


VILLAGE  OF  SABOBA  AND  RAMONA     147 

Ramona's  fears  were  destined  to  become  realities. 
At  Saboba  her  baby  sickened.  "  From  the  day  of 
that  terrible  chill  in  the  snow-storm,  she  had  never  been 
quite  well."  Now  she  was  dangerously  ill.  Alessan- 
dro  went  to  see  the  agency  physician  at  San  Bernardino 
and  got  some  medicine,  but  it  did  no  good.  Then  he 
took  Baba  in  the  expectation  that  the  doctor  would 
ride  back  with  him  to  Saboba  to  see  the  child  in  order 
that  he  might  properly  prescribe  for  it.  But  he  was 
laughed  at  for  his  pains.  Then  they  decided  to  take 
the  dying  child  to  the  doctor;  and  oh!  the  heart 
breaking  sadness  of  that  journey,  when  the  little  one 
passed  away  even  as  hope  cheered  their  forlorn  hearts. 

This  was  the  last  tie  to  Saboba,  and  yet  Ramona 
shrank  from  going  to  the  solitude  of  the  mountains.  A 
brutal  and  cruel  incident  connected  with  the  killing  of 
their  own  cow,  where  Alessandro  was  charged  with 
being  a  cattle-thief  and  Ramona  grossly  insulted  by  a 
vile  white  man,  finally  hastened  them  away. 

In  view  of  the  facts  that  the  Indians  were  evicted, 
by  law,  from  Temecula,  San  Pasquale,  and  Warner's 
Ranch,  and  still  remain  at  Saboba,  the  question  is 
often  asked :  Why  did  the  Indians  succeed  in  retaining 
their  homes  in  one  case  and  lose  them  in  the  others? 
I  have  elsewhere  explained  why  the  Indians  lost  their 
homes  at  Warner's  Ranch,  but  it  is  interesting  to  note 
the  reasons  given  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State 
of  California  for  allowing  the  Saboba  Indians  to  remain 
in  possession  of  the  lands  they  had  always  occupied. 
The  suit  for  ejectment  was  in  progress  while  Mrs.  Jackson 


148   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

was  in  California.  She  was  much  interested  in  it 
and  watched  it  as  closely  as  she  could.  The  Mexican 
grant  of  the  ranch  —  the  San  Jacinto  —  was  made 
December  31,  1842.  A  United  States  patent  was 
issued,  in  confirmation,  January  1 7,  1 880.  A  short  time 
thereafter  the  owner  sought  to  evict  the  Indians.  The 
lower  court  ordered  the  eviction,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  Indians  did  not  appear  in  court  to  defend  their 
rights.  Then  the  Indian  Rights  Association,  of  Phila 
delphia,  acting  under  the  advice  of  Professor  C.  C. 
Painter,  succeeded  in  getting  the  case  restored  to  the 
calendar,  counsel  appointed  by  the  Government  to 
defend  the  case,  and  assumed  the  expenses  of  the 
counsel  so  appointed.  When  the  case  went  against 
the  Indians  in  the  lower  court  the  Association  deposited 
its  check  for  $3,300  required  by  the  court  for  costs  and 
indemnity  before  an  appeal  was  allowed.  A  hearing 
was  had,  first  before  three  of  the  judges,  then  before  a 
full  bench,  who  rendered  a  unanimous  decision  in  favor 
of  the  Indians.  The  chief  points  of  that  decision  are  as 
follows : 

I.  That   Spain   and   Mexico   regarded    the    Indians 
as    special    wards,    jealously    guarding     their    peace, 
prosperity,  and  rights  of  property.     Local  judges  were 
required,  without  request  to  do  so,  to  visit  the  Indians, 
where  whites  had  received  grants,  and  ascertain  whether 
they  had  suffered  any  injury  in  person  or  property. 

II.  After  the  acquisition  of  California  from  Mexico, 
the  United  States  was  bound,  under  the  treaty  of  Guad- 
alupe  Hidalgo,  to  respect  and  protect  all  titles,  both 


VILLAGE  OF  SABOBA  AND  RAMONA     149 

legal  and  equitable,  acquired  previous  to  the  cession. 
To  aid  Congress  in  fully  understanding  land  titles  in 
California,  William  Carey  Jones  was  sent  to  Mexico, 
in  July,  1849,  and  he  thus  speaks  of  the  rights  of  the 
Indians:  "I  am  instructed  to  make  an  inquiry  into  the 
nature  of  Indian  rights  (to  the  soil)  under  the  Spanish 
and  Mexican  Governments.  It  is  a  principle  constantly 
laid  down  in  the  Spanish  and  Colonial  laws  that  the 
Indians  shall  have  a  right  to  such  lands  as  they  need 
for  their  habitations,  for  tillage,  and  for  pasturage.  .  .  . 
Special  directions  were  given  for  the  selection  of  land 
for  the  Indian  villages  in  places  suitable  for  agriculture, 
and  having  the  necessary  wood  and  water.  .  .  .  Agree 
able  to  the  theory  and  spirit  of  these  laws,  the  Indians 
in  California  were  always  supposed  to  have  a  certain 
property  or  interest  in  the  Missions.  .  .  .  We  may  say, 
therefore,  that,  however  maladministration  of  the  law 
may  have  destroyed  its  interest,  the  law  itself  has  con 
stantly  asserted  the  rights  of  the  Indians  to  habita 
tions  and  sufficient  fields  for  their  support.  ...  I 
understand  the  law  to  be,  that  whenever  Indian  settle 
ments  are  established  and  the  Indians  till  the  ground, 
they  have  a  right  of  occupancy  in  the  land  they  need 
and  use,  and  whenever  a  grant  is  made  which  includes 
such  settlements  the  grant  is  subject  to  such  occupancy. 
This  right  of  occupancy,  however,  at  least  when  on 
private  estates,  is  not  transferable,  but  whenever  the 
Indians  abandon  it  the  title  of  the  owner  becomes 
perfect." 

III.  In  the  case  of  the  San  Jacinto  grant  to  Estudillo, 


1 50   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  rights  of  the  Indians  were  preserved  without  pre 
senting  their  claims  to  the  Board  of  Land  Commissioners 
for,  when  he  petitioned  the  Mexican  governor  for 
the  land,  he  promised  not  to  molest  the  Indian  inhabi 
tants.  The  petition  was  referred  to  the  prefect  of  the 
district,  with  instructions  to  inquire  as  to  the  wishes  and 
desires  of  the  Indians  in  the  matter.  They  replied  that 
they  were  willing  that  the  applicant  should  settle  upon 
the  place.  In  the  grant  the  first  condition  imposed 
upon  the  grantee  is  "that  he  shall  in  no  way  disturb  or 
molest  the  Indians  who  are  established  or  living 
thereon."  And  the  fifth  clause  provides  that  "if  he 
contravene  these  conditions  he  will  forfeit  his  right  to 
the  land,  and  it  shall  be  open  to  denouncement  by 
another  party."  The  court,  therefore,  decided  that 
"the  legal  title  secured  to  Estudillo  and  his  grantees 
must  be  held  by  them  charged  with  the  right  of  occu 
pancy  by  the  Indians." 

The  concluding  clause  of  the  decision  states  that  the 
rights  of  the  Indians  exist  only  so  long  as  they  actually 
occupy  the  land. 

In  accordance  with  this  decision  the  Indians  have 
not  been  further  molested,  yet  crafty  attempts  have 
been  made  several  times  to  get  them  to  leave  the  land 
for  a  short  time,  when,  of  course,  proceedings  would 
have  been  begun  to  keep  them  out  forever. 

It  was  at  Saboba  that  I  first  gained  my  real  insight 
into  the  significance  of  the  designs  woven  into  the 
baskets  of  the  older  Indians.  The  younger  weavers 
have,  in  the  main,  become  commercialized.  They 


VILLAGE  OF  SABOBA  AND  RAMONA     151 

weave  for  sale,  and  with  a  sole  eye  to  the  money  they 
are  to  receive  for  their  work.  On  the  other  hand  the 
older  weavers  made  their  baskets  as  perfect  as  thought, 
skill  and  care  could  accomplish,  and,  from  things  I  had 
heard  here  and  there,  I  was  fully  assured  that  there 
was  more  to  the  designs  than  a  mere  desire  to  add 
beauty  to  the  basket.  Accordingly  I  asked  Miss  Mary 
Noble,  who  for  some  years  had  been  the  teacher  of  the 
Indian  School  at  Saboba,  and  who  was  familiar  with 
the  language,  if  she  would  go  with  me  to  interpret 
while  I  asked  the  Indians  about  the  significance  of 
their  basketry  designs.  At  once  Miss  Noble  ex 
pressed  her  willingness  to  go,  but  at  the  same  time 
assured  me  it  would  be  useless  to  expect  to  gain  the 
knowledge  I  desired  from  the  Saboba  Indians.  "  Why, 
said  she,  "  you  know  I  have  lived  with  them  for  many 
years,  in  most  intimate  association,  and  I  have  never 
once  heard  them  make  any  reference  to  these  designs, 
except  as  making  their  baskets  more  pretty." 

Nevertheless,  she  expressed  her  readiness  to  go  with 
me.  On  the  morning,  however,  that  the  visit  was  to  be 
made,  certain  friends  of  hers  came  and  carried  her  off 
in  their  conveyance,  and  I  did  not  see  her  all  day. 
Dr.  C.  C.  Wainwright,  the  agency  physician,  kindly 
took  me  in  his  conveyance  and  acted  as  interpreter. 
He  became  more  interested  before  long,  if  that  were 
possible,  than  I  did,  for  we  gained  stories  of  designs 
which  symbolized  myths,  legends,  personal  records  of 
esthetic  enjoyment,  folk  lore,  and  hosts  of  other  mate 
rial,  all  as  the  result  of  that  day's  questioning. 


1 52   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Some  of  our  leading  ethnologists  and  Indianologists 
openly  question  my  statements  in  regard  to  the  stories  of 
the  Indians  connected  with  the  designs  of  their  baskets. 
Instead  of  honestly  and  conscientiously,  patiently  and 
gently  going  to  work  to  gain  this  intimate  knowledge 
for  themselves,  they  hastily  ask  questions  of  the  Indians, 
irritate,  anger  or  confuse  them,  and  then  go  away  de 
claring  that  my  stories  are  all  self-created  and  imagi 
nary.  I  refer  to  this  charge  —  for  it  is  almost  a  charge 
against  my  own  honor  and  truth  —  with  perfect  equa 
nimity.  If  Dr.  Wainwright  is  still  alive,  he  will 
readily  corroborate  my  statements,  as  do  scores  of  people 
who  have  heard  the  sweet  stories  the  Indians  have 
voluntarily  poured  forth  to  those  whom  they  felt  were 
in  sympathy  with  them. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    CAHUIIvLA   RAMONA    AND   HER    STORY 

OUSAN  COOUDGE  in  her  "  Introduction  "  to  the 
^  Pasadena  edition  of  Ramona  says  of  the  killing  of 
Alessandro :  "The  shooting  of  the  Indian  who,  in  a  state 
of  cataleptic  aberration,  had  ridden  a  white  man's 
horse  home,  instead  of  his  own,  took  place  while  she 
was  there."  Mrs.  Jackson  first  heard  the  story  in  all 
its  details  from  Miss  Sheriff.  Her  knowledge  was 
enlarged  when  she  came  to  know  Aunt  Ri,  Mrs.  Jordan, 
at  Old  San  Jacinto,  who  gave  her  many  interesting 
details  which  later  she  worked  into  the  novel.  The 
facts  are  these.  A  Cahuilla  Indian,  named  Juan 
Diego,  was  afflicted  with  fits  of  temporary  insanity 
induced  by  catalepsy,  and  was  commonly  referred  to  in 
the  region  as  "  locoed."  Horses  are" locoed,"  or  made 
crazy  by  the  eating  of  the  rattle-weed  (astragalus 
leucopsis),  a  prettily  leaved  plant  with  white  flowers 
and  seedpods  that,  when  dry,  rattle  in  the  wind. 
Every  one  living  about  San  Jacinto  knew  Juan  Diego 
and  his  sad  condition,  and  though  he  sometimes  did 
strange  things  they  were  generally  tolerated  with  equa 
bility  and  good  humor.  It  was  Juan  Diego!  That 
seemed  to  be  sufficient  explanation.  He  was  occa 
sionally  a  sheep  herder,  and  once  in  a  while  if  he  saw 


154   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

a  band  of  sheep  he  would  drive  them  away  in  the 
night,  always  caring  well  for  them,  however,  and 
bringing  them  back  in  safety  when  his  "  fit  "  was  over. 
His  wife  was  a  young  Cahuilla  squaw,  Ramona  Lubo, 
or  Lugo,  of  considerable  energy  and  ability.  To 
gether  they  had  found  a  beautifully  secluded  spot  near 
Quitman  Reed's  old  place,  several  miles  from  the  vil 
lage  of  Cahuilla,  in  the  upper  portion  of  the  Western 
slopes  of  a  small  offshoot  of  the  San  Jacinto  range 
known  as  the  Cahuilla  Mountains.  Here  they  had 
built  a  small  adobe  hut  not  far  from  a  spring  which 
flowed  sufficiently  to  supply  their  moderate  wants,  and 
where  there  were  a  few  patches  of  land  capable  of  cul 
tivation.  Juan  and  Ramona  planted  a  small  peach 
orchard,  which  was  still  in  evidence,  though  the  trees 
were  dying  for  want  of  attention,  when  I  visited  the 
place  some  years  ago.  Mrs.  Jackson  never  saw  it,  so 
her  descriptions  are  somewhat  vague.  In  the  novel, 
when  the  vile  conduct  of  the  whites  compelled  them  to 
leave  Saboba,  Alessandro  said  to  Ramona:  "  If 
Majella  would  not  be  afraid,  I  know  a  place,  high  up 
on  the  mountain,  where  no  white  man  has  ever  been, 
or  ever  will  be.  I  found  it  when  I  was  following  a 
bear.  The  beast  led  me  up.  It  was  his  home;  and  I 
said  then,  it  was  a  fit  hiding-place  for  a  man.  There 
is  water,  and  a  little  green  valley.  We  could  live 
there,  but  it  would  be  no  more  than  to  live;  it  is  very 
small,  the  valley." 

It  is  approached  from  three  directions:    there  is  a 
rude  cattle  trail  from  the  region  of  Palomar  or  Smith 


An  Indian  kish  (if  Saboba 

Page   14o 


A  Cahuilla  kish,  built  in  the  style  found  when  the  padres  first  came  to  California 
Copyright,  1899,  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  320 


The  Cahuilla  Ramowa  at  the  Jfaniada  of  her  brother 

Page   loG 


Ramonn  ircfping  at  the  grave  of 

Alessandro  (Juan  Diego) 

Copyright,  1899,  by  George  \Vharton 

James  Page   HjO 


Tfie  CuhniUa    Jinmona    leaving  the  grave 
of  her  murdered  husband 

Page  16Q 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY   155 

Mountain,  and  another  from  the  opposite  direction, 
where  Judge  Tripp  (the  Judge  Wells  of  Ramona)  and  his 
son-in-law  used  to  live.  The  third  is  an  almost  blind 
trail,  that  none  but  the  Indians  and  cowboys  know, 
directly  from  Cahuilla.  I  went  from  Cahuilla  to  Judge 
Tripp's  and  then  on  horseback  to  the  deserted  spot. 
The  adobe  walls  of  the  tiny  cottage  were  entirely  gone 
on  two  sides,  and  were  in  a  ruined  condition  on  the 
other  two.  The  roof  had  fallen  in  and  entirely  dis 
appeared.  The  wooded  threshold  over  which  Juan 
Diego  fell  dead  when  Sam  Temple  shot  him,  and  which 
was  dyed  with  his  blood,  was  rotted  away.  The  spring 
from  which  Ramona  used  to  fetch  the  wrater  for  the 
uses  of  her  family  was  trampled  about  with  the  hoofs 
of  many  cattle,  a  small  band  of  which  stood  near  the 
hut  when  I  approached.  From  the  ridge  above  de 
scended  the  trail  over  which  Temple  rode,  and  it  was 
there  —  in  that  exact  spot  on  the  ridge  —  that  Ramona 
first  saw  him,  on  that  day  of  sad  tragedy.  There, 
near  the  spring,  was  a  tree  to  which  Juan  had  tied 
Temple's  horse,  and  where  it  stood  while  he  slept,  and 
while  Ramona  was  eating  out  her  heart  in  fear  lest 
the  owner  should  appear  and  claim  that  her  husband 
had  stolen  it. 

All  this  was  on  the  slope  on  one  side  of  the  narrow 
valley,  which  had  scarcely  any  level  ground,  but  was 
more  in  the  form  of  a  fertile  "  draw,"  through  which, 
during  the  rainy  season,  a  tiny  stream  evidently  flowed. 
On  the  other  side  of  this  dry  creek-bed  was  a  mass  of 
wild  roses,  an  exquisite  tangle  of  green  and  pink, 


156   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

shedding  a  rich  wild  fragrance  which  permeated  the 
air.  A  little  distance  away  was  the  peach  orchard, 
utterly  neglected  and  uncared  for,  pathetic  memorial 
of  Juan  Diego's  struggle  to  make  a  home  for  his  Ramona 
and  their  children. 

Near  by  we  found  the  entrance  to  the  trail  leading 
over  the  ridge  to  Cahuilla,  and  it  was  over  this  trail 
that  Ramona  fled  to  convey  the  news  to  her  people  of 
the  murder  of  her  husband. 

After  Juan  Diego's  death  she  never  returned  to  the 
spot,  and  to  this  day  the  Cahuillas  dislike  to  go  near 
it.  It  is  the  place  of  a  violent  death,  a  place  where  evil 
spirits  have  reigned,  and  they  shun  it. 

When  I  first  saw  Ramona  she  was  at  her  brother's 
ramada  (a  small  brush  shack)  at  Cahuilla.  Later,  at 
her  own  home,  she  permitted  me  to  photograph  her. 
She  promised  that  on  a  subsequent  visit  she  would  tell 
all  the  story  of  the  murder  of  her  husband  into  my  gra- 
phophone,  I  having  tried  to  explain,  as  fully  as  I  could, 
the  peculiar  power  of  this  white  man's  magical  in 
strument.  When  I  arrived  at  the  village  a  year  later 
she  had  either  forgotten  her  promise  or  wished  to  dis 
regard  it,  and  it  took  the  united  persuasions  of  Mrs. 
Noble, —  the  daughter  of  the  much-beloved  teacher  of 
the  Indian  School  at  Cahuilla,  Mrs.  N.  J.  Salsberry, — 
and  myself  to  prevail  upon  her  to  come  to  the  wagon. 
It  was  then  that  the  incident  of  the  basket  occurred  as 
related  in  the  next  chapter. 

Her  version  of  the  tragedy,  with  a  few  facts  subse 
quently  learned, —  which  is  almost  exactly  as  that 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY    157 

followed  by  Mrs.  Jackson  in  Ramona, —  is  that  her 
husband  had  ridden  down  on  his  mean  little  pony  into 
the  valley  on  some  urgent  and  important  errand. 

On  his  return,  disappointed,  heart-sick  and  worn 
out  in  body,  he  stopped  at  the  hotel  at  old  San  Jacinto 
where  Mrs.  Jordan  was  housekeeper  for  Mr.  Hewitt, 
the  owner.  Seeing  his  condition  and  that  of  his  pony 
her  kindly  heart  led  her  to  suggest  that  he  unsaddle 
and  remain  over  night.  In  his  feverish  desire  to  get 
back  he  refused  at  first,  but  ultimately  his  fatigue 
led  him  to  be  persuaded.  Taking  the  saddle  from  his 
wretched  little  horse  he  turned  the  animal  loose  into 
the  corral,  where  a  number  of  horses  belonging  to  Mr. 
Hewitt  and  various  teamsters  and  others  were  con 
tentedly  feeding,  rolling  or  resting.  Early  in  the  morn 
ing,  long  before  daylight,  Juan  was  up.  And  here 
comes  in  the  action  that  led  to  his  death.  Whether 
he  was  "  locoed,"  or  did  it  purposely,  owing  to  his 
eager  desire  to  get  home,  or  —  as  Temple  claims  —  he 
deliberately  stole  the  horse,  no  one  in  this  world  will 
ever  know  from  his  own  lips.  Certain  it  is  that,  leav 
ing  his  own  pony,  which  he  knew  that  everybody  else 
knew,  he  placed  his  saddle  on  a  fine  large  black  horse 
belonging  to  Sam  Temple,  who  was  teaming  lumber 
down  the  mountain  at  the  time,  and  rode  the  forty 
miles  home.  When  he  arrived,  Ramona,  seeing  the 
strange  horse,  knowing  the  relentless  and  bitter  feeling 
against  a  horse-thief  and  especially  an  Indian  horse- 
thief,  and  fearing  trouble,  begged  him  to  take  it  back 
immediately  to  the  place  where  he  got  it.  Striking 


158   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

his  head,  he  expressed  surprise  at  having  some  one  else's 
horse  and  said  his  head  was  all  wrong,  but  that  he  was 
so  weary  he  could  not  possibly  go  back  with  the  horse 
until  he  had  had  a  little  sleep.  Accordingly  he  tied 
the  animal  to  the  tree  near  the  spring,  went  into  the 
little  adobe  he  called  home,  laid  down  and  immediately 
fell  into  a  sound  sleep. 

Ramona,  half  distracted  with  terrors,  moved  about 
outside,  watching  that  the  strange  horse  did  not  get 
away,  and  impatiently  waiting  for  her  husband  to 
wake  up  and  start  back.  Suddenly  she  heard  the  on 
coming  hoof  beats  of  a  horse.  Her  heart  almost  stood 
still,  when,  clearly  outlined  against  the  sky  on  the 
rocky  ridge  above  the  house,  she  saw  the  figure  of  a 
horseman.  This  man,  the  moment  he  saw  the  horse, 
began  to  curse  and  swear  and  call  out  the  name  of  her 
husband,  as  he  dismounted  and  walked  down  the  trail. 
Tying  the  horse  he  had  ridden  alongside  the  one  Juan 
had  brought,  he  asked  Ramona  where  her  husband  was. 
Almost  paralyzed  with  fear,  and  incapable  of  speech, 
for  she  saw  the  gun  in  the  man's  hands,  the  revolver  in 
his  pocket,  and  the  fierce  and  uncontrollable  anger 
of  his  eyes,  she  could  only  point  to  the  hut.  Ad 
vancing  towards  it  the  stranger  called  more  loudly 
than  before:  "You  horse-thieving—  —come  out 
of  there."  Awakened  by  the  noise,  Juan  appeared  at 
the  door,  stretching  and  yawning  as  one  will  when 
suddenly  aroused  from  sleep,  and  at  the  same  moment 
a  shot  rang  out  and  Juan  fell  prostrate  on  his  own 
threshold.  Still  advancing  and  cursing,  the  white 


A  glimpse  of  the  Camilla  Valley,  near 
where  JRamona  now  lives 

Page  159 


The  path  up  which  Ramona  fled 
to  Cahuilla 

Page   159 


The  Cahuilla  Ramona  pointing  out  the 

grave  of  her  murdered  husband 
Copyright,  1900,  by  George  Wharton 
James  Page  166 


The    jail    at     Cahuilla     with    Condino, 
Ramona's  son,  and  a  boy  playmate  inside 
Page  159 


The  Thomas  Ranch,  where  lived  the  nearest  friendly  irhites  to 
Ramona  and  Juan  Diego 

Page  164 


An  Indian  funeral  in  the  graveyard  in  Cahuilla  where  Alessandro  (Juan  Diego} 
is  buried 

Page   173 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY    159 

man  drew  his  revolver  and  fired  four  more  shots  into 
the  dead  body.  Then,  without  a  word  to  her,  but 
still  uttering  curses,  he  returned  to  the  horses,  untied 
them  and  rode  away. 

He  had  been  there  but  a  few  short  minutes,  yet  how 
much  had  transpired  to  Ramona  in  that  brief  time. 
She  was  made  a  widow,  and  her  child  as  well  as  her 
unborn  babe  were  rendered  fatherless.  Scarce  know 
ing  what  she  did,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  dead  body 
of  Juan,  from  which  the  life-blood  was  rapidly  flowing, 
lavishing  a  wealth  of  caresses  and  tender  words  upon  it, 
then,  suddenly,  crazed  with  her  grief,  she  arose  and  has 
tened  to  her  relatives  at  Cahuilla  to  tell  them  of  her  woe. 

Never  again  did  she  return  to  the  little  valley  now 
known  by  her  husband's  name  —  Juan  Diego  Valley. 
What  her  friends  did  was  about  as  related  in  the  novel, 
and  she  herself  settled  down  to  the  dull  and  unevent 
ful  life  of  a  Cahuilla  Indian,  until  the  sympathy  for  her 
that  came  with  the  publication  of  Ramona  led  many 
interested  people  to  drive  over  from  Hemet  or  San 
Jacinto  to  see  and  talk  with  her. 

Her  son,  Condino,  became  her  chief  care.  When  I 
first  saw  him  he  was  a  bright  lad  of  some  fourteen 
years,  full  of  fun  and  frolic,  and  yet  an  intelligent 
companion  as  I  wandered  to  and  fro  in  the  village.  He 
showed  me  the  queer  little  jail  here  pictured  and  when 
his  companion  made  some  remark,  Condino  laughingly 
threatened  to  "  jail  "  him,  and  while  the  youngsters 
struggled  together  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  few 
pictures  of  them. 


160   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

He  took  me  up  to  the  Campo  Santo  or  burying  ground 
of  the  little  village.  It  occupies  a  commanding  situa 
tion  overlooking  the  valley.  The  huge  boulders, 
behind  the  graves,  are  remnants  of  the  great  granite 
masses  that  once  dominated  this  landscape  long  cen 
turies  prior  to  man's  advent  upon  the  earth,  and  they 
now  bear  evidences  of  many  years  of  aboriginal  occu 
pation.  Several  of  them  have  been  used  for  grinding 
the  seeds  of  many  generations,  the  great  boulders 
themselves  having  one  or  more  mortar  holes  cut  into 
them.  Here  singly,  or  in  numbers,  the  women  or 
house-maidens  would  assemble  in  the  "  olden  days  " 
and  pound  their  seeds  and  acorns  to  a  fine  flour  for  the 
making  of  their  foods,  often  singing  their  quaint  songs 
while  they  worked. 

I  asked  Condino  if  Juan  Diego  was  buried  here,  and 
he  replied  yes,  but  refused  to  show  me  the  grave,  either 
from  the  timidity  Indians  so  often  manifest  toward 
strangers  in  regard  to  their  intimate  personal  customs, 
or  because  he  did  not  know  its  location,  so,  one  day, 
when  Ramona  was  particularly  gracious,  I  prevailed 
upon  her  to  walk  up  to  the  graveyard  and  show  it  to 
me.  Although  I  could  see  nothing  to  designate  or 
differentiate  it  from  the  other  graves,  she  walked  to  it 
without  hesitancy ,  and  then,  as  I  put  my  head  under  the 
focussing  cloth  of  my  camera,  intending  to  make  a  pic 
ture  of  her  standing  there,  she  suddenly  squatted 
down  and,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  began  the 
soft  wailing  and  sobbing  that  precedes  the  louder  and 
more  vociferous  lamentations  of  the  Indians  when  they 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY  161 

have  their  fiesta  del  Muerto  —  feast  of  the  dead.  Even 
after  this  long  lapse  of  years  she  could  not  think  of  the 
tragic  loss  of  her  husband  without  tears  and  the  deep 
est  emotion.  It  seemed  almost  a  sacrilege  to  make  a 
photograph  of  her  at  this  moment,  yet  I  trust  she  and 
the  recording  angel  will  consider  the  kindliness  of  my 
heart  towards  her  and  her  people  in  balancing  the 
amount  of  my  culpability.  I  did  not  feel  quite  so 
guilty  when  I  asked  her  to  stand  by  the  side  of  the 
grave  and  thus  specifically  locate  it  for  future  visitors. 

In  appearance  the  Cahuilla  Ramona  is  squat,  being 
perhaps  some  five  feet  six  inches  in  height,  fat  and 
unattractive.  With  low  forehead,  prominent  cheek 
bones,  wide  nostrils,  heavy  lips,  she  appears  dull,  heavy, 
and  unimpressionable.  She  seldom  smiles,  and  her 
features  seem  to  have  crystallized  into  an  expression  of 
indifference,  dislike  to  the  whites,  and  deep  sadness. 
There  is  no  personal  vivacity  as  one  so  often  finds 
among  even  elderly  Indians.  She  is  uncommuni 
cative  to  a  degree,  only  those  she  has  learned  to 
respect  being  able  to  get  her  to  talk  upon  any  subject, 
much  less  upon  the  great  tragedy  that  saddened  her 
life.  To  most  people,  not  knowing  her,  she  would  be 
"  an  ugly  brutal  Indian  woman  "  and  nothing  more. 
Yet,  as  is  shown  in  the  next  chapter,  she  has  a  sensi 
tive  soul,  has  felt  deeply  and  still  feels  keenly  the  great 
sorrow  of  her  life. 

On  the  seventh  of  March,  1907,  her  beloved  son, 
Condino,  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  the  following 
account  taken  from  the  Los  Angeles  Times  of  March  8 


1 62   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

is  interesting.  The  reader  will  necessarily  correct 
the  error  that  Ramona  is  now  but  forty  years  old, 
She  is  nearer  sixty. 

"  SAN  JACINTO,  March  7. —  Condino,  the  only  child 
of  '  Ramona,'  the  Indian  heroine  of  Helen  Hunt  Jack 
son's  romance,  was  married  here  in  the  Catholic  church 
this  afternoon  to  Miss  Marta  Kline,  the  mission  priest, 
Father  Hahn,  officiating.  This  little  pastoral  scene, 
out  of  real  Indian  life,  was  singularly  beautiful,  with 
its  setting  of  blue  mountains  and  a  spring  landscape 
of  green  fields  and  budding  trees. 

"  The  tiny  white  Catholic  church,  with  Gothic  spire 
topped  with  a  gilt  cross,  is  located  just  west  of  San 
Jacinto.  The  little  wedding  party,  consisting  of  the 
relatives  of  the  bride,  two  friends  of  the  groom,  and 
half  a  dozen  interested  whites,  gathered  in  the  church 
just  as  the  sun  was  setting  behind  a  bank  of  pink- 
tipped  clouds. 

"  The  unusual  wedding  hour  was  occasioned  by  the 
opportune  visit  of  the  priest.  His  visits  are  short  and 
to  the  point,  as  his  chief  work  is  the  management  of 
the  Indian  boarding  school  at  Banning. 

"  The  timid  girl  bride,  aged  sixteen,  attended  by  her 
grandmother,  Mrs.  Leon,  and  her  aunt,  Regina,  en 
tered  the  church.  The  priest  reassured  the  girl,  who 
felt  somewhat  nonplussed  by  her  sudden  importance 
and  the  seriousness  of  the  occasion,  judging  from  the 
timid  glances  she  cast  from  her  liquid  black  eyes  over 
the  assemblage.  Together,  the  girl  and  Condino 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY     163 

followed  the  gowned  priest  to  the  altar  and  knelt 
before  the  kindly  man. 

"  Condino,  who  is  a  stalwart  Indian  youth,  aged 
twenty,  and  whose  form  reflects  the  sinewy  strength 
of  life  in  the  wild,  knelt  at  his  marriage  altar  with  head 
erect.  The  little  bride  was  in  white  and  wore  a  wreath 
of  waxen  orange  blossoms  and  a  filmy  white  veil.  Her 
costume  was  entirely  modern,  of  good  material,  and  her 
dark  hair,  dressed  a  la  pompadour,  heightened  her 
clear-cut  beauty. 

"The  priest  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  proscribed 
marriage  service.  He  seized  the  opportunity  to  talk 
to  these  two  just  accepting  the  sacrament  of  marriage. 
He  begged  the  young  groom  not  to  drink  or  gamble,  and 
ingeniously  insisted  that  he  confine  his  interests  to 
his  bride  alone.  In  his  talk  to  the  little  bride,  who 
already  knows  the  arts  of  coquetry,  he  advised  that  she 
seek  to  be  the  heart  of  her  husband's  home,  and  never 
to  gossip  with  her  friends  about  her  husband. 

"  The  two  young  people,  when  pronounced  married, 
bashfully  received  congratulations,  and  mounting  their 
carriage,  drove  to  the  wedding  feast  awaiting  at  the 
grandmother's  adobe  house  in  the  cotton  woods. 

"  Both  have  a  grammar  school  education,  and 
Condino  is  well  fitted  to  support  his  wife.  He  received 
from  his  foster  father,  Judge  Hopkins,  of  Cahuilla, 
kindly  care  and  instruction  in  ranching  and  stock 
raising.  Besides  this,  Condino  has  several  gem  mines 
in  the  Cahuilla  Mountains,  and  two  thousand  shares 
in  a  copper  mine  in  Bisbee,  Arizona.  The  chances 


164   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

are  that  if  Condino  attends  to  business  he  will  be  as 
well-to-do  as  his  white  neighbors  at  Cahuilla. 

"  Ramona,  his  mother,  lives  still  on  the  Cahuilla 
reservation,  aged  about  forty  years.  She  gets  great 
enjoyment  and  profit  from  being  the  celebrated  heroine 
in  Helen  Hunt  Jackson's  novel.  Her  baskets  bring 
phenomenal  prices,  as  well  as  her  photos  and  lace 
work." 

Having  visited  Saboba,  old  San  Jacinto,  San  Jacinto, 
and  Cahuilla  several  times,  and  knowing  the  truth  of 
all  the  statements  I  have  made  in  these  pages  about 
the  Cahuilla  Ramona,  I  felt  it  would  be  of  corroborative 
value  if  I  wrote  to  some  of  the  representative  families 
of  the  neighborhood  for  their  remembrances  as  to  the 
truth  of  the  story.  Mrs.  Josephine  Clogston  Guthrie, 
whose  husband  lives  not  far  from  the  Juan  Diego 
place,  and  whose  parents  have  lived  there  for  many 
years,  thus  replied:  "  Ramona  of  Cahuilla  is  the  wife 
of  Juan  Diego  who  was  killed  by  Sam  Temple.  She 
and  her  husband  lived  in  the  old  Juan  Diego  home  near 
Quitman  Reed's  place  (Reed  is  Judge  Tripp's  son-in- 
law,  the  Judge  Wells  of  Ramona),  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Cahuilla  Mountains.  They  had  one  child  when 
he  was  killed  and  another  was  born  sometime  not  very 
long  afterward.  I  do  not  know  about  Majella,  though 
the  child  they  had  died,  but  whether  she  died  before 
her  father  or  not  I  cannot  remember.  Juan  had 
crazy  spells,  but  whether  he  was  crazy  or  not  when 
he  stole  the  horse  I  do  not  know.  At  any  rate  he  left 


CAHUILLA  RAMONA  AND  HER  STORY   165 

his  own  horse,  and  people  who  knew  him  well  say  they 
believe  he  would  have  returned  it.  His  wife  said  he 
was  trying  to  tell  about  it  when  he  was  shot,  and  she 
claims  he  was  unarmed.  Juan,  I  think,  was  a  Teme- 
cula  Indian,  but  as  to  how  many  places  he  lived  I 
do  not  know.  He  lived  at  the  one  place  as  long  as  we 
knew  him.  He  was  quite  a  good  worker  for  an  Indian 
and  used  to  shear  sheep.  Of  his  or  her  home  life  I  do 
not  know,  except  that  they  lived  like  the  other  Indians. 
She  has  one  boy  now  that  is  about  fifteen  or  sixteen. 

"She  used  to  do  washing  for  the  Tripp  women  and 
Mrs.  Reed. 

"  Juan  used  to  herd  goats  for  Will  Tripp,  and  Will 
said  he  drove  them  out  on  the  desert  during  one  of 
his  crazy  spells.  At  one  time  they  found  him  riding 
a  log  saddled  up  with  his  saddle. 

"  Ramona  never  lived  in  any  other  place  than  the 
Cahuilla  Valley  and  in  Juan  Diego  Valley.  She  is 
Pico's  sister.  He  is  now  captain  of  the  village. 

"  Judge  Wells  of  the  book  was  Mr.  Tripp.  He  lived 
on  San  Jacinto  Mountain,  then  in  San  Jacinto,  and 
finally  in  Radec.  He  was  married  twice.  He  and  his 
first  wife  raised  four  children  —  Shasta,  Will,  O.  C., 
and  Edith.  After  his  wife's  death  he  married  a  Miss 
Covington,  of  San  Bernardino,  and  they  had  ten  chil 
dren,  six  boys  and  four  girls  that  I  know  of.  One  of 
the  girls  killed  herself.  The  old  man  has  been  dead 
many  years. 

"  Jim  Farrar's  name  is  Sam  Temple,  and  he  lives 
near  Banning.  He  is  no  good.  He  had  no  family  at 


1 66   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  time  he  killed  Juan  Diego,  but  has  since  married. 
He  has  not  a  very  high  moral  standard  and  a  few  years 
ago  Constable  McKim,  of  San  Jacinto,  shot  him  (in  the 
arm)  for  resisting  arrest.  He  is  a  braggart  and  a  bully. 
He  was  teaming  off  the  mountain  (San  Jacinto)  at 
the  time  of  the  murder.  It  was  one  of  his  team  horses 
that  Juan  took. 

"  Mrs.  Wolfe  was  not  an  Indian,  but  part  French  and 
part  negro,  and  Wolfe  was  a  Frenchman.  They  had 
three  boys  and  a  girl  that  grew  up. 

"  Estudillo  was  Indian  agent  at  the  time  Juan  Diego 
was  killed. 

"  When  they  moved  the  Temecula  Indians  they  had 
a  great  excitement  and  were  afraid  of  an  uprising  among 
them.  They  either  had  troops  from  San  Diego  or  had 
them  ready  to  move  at  a  moment's  notice,  I  do  not 
remember  which. 

"  The  lands  they  took  from  the  Indians  are  the  best 
in  the  valley  and  since  then  their  cemetery  has  been 
ploughed  up. 

"  The  teamster  who  took  '  Aunt  Ri  '  up  on  the 
mountains  was  Will  Webster,  and  the  family  who  got 
up  so  early  was  the  Websters. 

"  The   Indians  were   moved   from  San   Pasquale  as 

told  in  Ramona,  but  Juan  Diego  was  not  one  of  them. 

"  The  happenings  of  the  book  are  all  real,  only  that 

they  are  all  put  into  Alessandro's  life,  whereas  Juan 

Diego  was  not  in  all  of  them. 

"  I  have  just  read  this  over  to  my  father  and  he 
says  Juan  was  an  expert  sheep  shearer." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

RAMONA'S  STAR  BASKET 

"T>  AMONA  LUBO  is  herself  a  fine  basket  maker, 
-•^  but  for  many  years  she  has  not  cared  to  exercise 
her  art  in  this  direction.  One  of  the  most  highly 
prized  baskets  in  my  collection  was  made  by  her,  but 
was  purchased  by  me  in  ignorance  of  that  fact.  The 
basket  is  an  almost  flat  plaque,  with  a  flange,  giving  it 
somewhat  of  the  appearance  of  a  soup  plate.  In  color 
it  is  a  rich  cream,  with  a  large  five-pointed  star  in  the 
center  and  a  host  of  small  dots  representing  stars  sur 
rounding  it,  all  worked  out  in  stitches  of  deep  brown 
of  tule  root. 

The  manner  in  which  I  learned  the  meaning  of  the 
big  star  and  the  little  star  from  Ramona  is  as  interesting 
as  the  story  itself.  It  came  about  as  follows.  After 
hearing  Ramona's  story  of  the  killing  of  her  husband 
by  Sam  Temple,  as  recited  in  a  former  chapter,  it 
seemed  that  it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  to  preserve 
her  story  in  the  graphophone,  told  in  her  own  way. 
Accordingly  on  my  next  visit  to  Cahuilla,  I  took  a  large 
graphophone  with  the  necessary  cylinders,  and  soon 
after  my  arrival  set  up  the  instrument  in  the  wagon 
ready  for  use.  Timid  and  afraid  of  every  new  thing, 


168   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

as  usual,  it  was  difficult  work  to  persuade  Ramona  to 
come  into  the  wagon.  Fearful  as  a  doe  she  sat  down, 
while  I  wound  up  the  machine  and  adjusted  the  cyl 
inder,  on  which  was  one  of  Nordica's  songs.  Our  ex 
planations  of  the  mysterious  powers  of  the  grapho- 
phone  only  seemed  to  excite  her  fears  the  more,  so  that 
I  was  not  surprised  when  the  clear  voice  of  the  great 
artist  burst  forth  from  the  horn  to  see  a  look  of  absolute 
terror  come  over  Ramona's  face,  and  the  next  moment 
to  see  her  flying  form  darting  through  the  wagon  door 
way.  She  fled  incontinently  to  her  little  cabin,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  our  hopes  of  a  record  were  doomed  to  dis 
appointment.  Mrs.  N.  J.  Salsberry,  the  beloved 
teacher  of  the  Indian  school,  and  her  daughter,  Mrs. 
Noble,  women  in  whose  integrity  Ramona  had  the 
highest  confidence,  united  with  me  in  persuasions  to 
get  her  back  to  the  wagon,  but  it  was  some  days  before 
she  would  consent. 

In  the  mean  time  I  had  wandered  about  the  village, 
buying  all  the  baskets  I  could  find,  and  among  others 
this  one  with  the  design  of  the  large  star  surrounded  by 
all  the  lesser  ones  in  the  firmament.  In  vain  I  sought 
to  know  something  of  the  design  from  the  Indian 
woman  of  whom  I  purchased  it.  She  did  not  make 
the  basket,  and  she  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  the 
design.  "Who  was  the  maker?"  She  refused  to  tell, 
and  I  had  at  last  settled  down  to  the  thought  that  I 
must  be  content  to  be  the  mere  possessor  of  the  basket 
without  knowing  anything  of  its  design  or  weaver,  and 
had  placed  it  with  my  other  purchases  in  the  wagon. 


The  Cahuilla  Ramona  and  her 

star  basket 

Copyright,  1899,  by  George  Wharton 
James  Page  167 


The  Cahuilla  Ramona  telling  her  story 
into  the  graphophone 

Page  170 


A  Saboba  Indian  basket  weaver,  and 
her  "  bat  "  basket 

Page  221 


The  Hartsell  (Wolf)  Store,  near 
Temecula 

Page   166 


[. 

Ft 
I 


I 


RAMONA'S    STAR    BASKET  169 

At  length  Mrs.  Noble's  persuasions  were  successful, 
and  she  and  Ramona  came  again  to  the  wagon. 
While  preparing  the  graphophone  I  suggested  to 
Ramona  that  she  look  at  my  baskets.  With  the  child 
like  interest  and  curiosity  Indians  always  display  in  one 
another's  work,  she  began  to  examine  the  baskets  and 
question  me  as  to  their  weavers,  when  suddenly  she 
caught  sight  of  this  star  basket.  Seizing  it  with  eager 
ness  she  exclaimed, — 

"Where  did  you  get  my  basket?" 

"It's  not  your  basket,  Ramona,"  I  replied.  "I 
bought  it  and  it  is  mine!" 

"No,  no!  It  is  not  yours,"  she  excitedly  answered. 
"  It  is  my  basket,  my  basket ! " 

"How  can  it  be  yours  when  I  bought  and  paid  for 
it?"  I  queried. 

"  Yes ! "  said  she.  "  I  know  it  is  yours  in  that  way,  but 
that  is  not  what  I  mean.  It  is  my  basket,  mine !  It  be 
longs  to  me !  I  made  it !  It  is  part  of  me — it  is  mine ! " 

Need  I  say  that  in  a  moment  my  keenest  interest  and 
profoundest  curiosity  were  aroused? 

"Ah,"  said  I,  "I  understand,  Ramona;  you  made 
the  basket.  It  is  a  part  of  you.  Why  did  you  put  the 
big  star  and  the  little  stars  in  your  basket?" 

"I  will  not  tell  you,"  was  her  reply,  with  the  keen 
directness  of  an  Indian. 

"Surely  you  will  tell  me,"  was  my  response.  "You 
often  say  you  will  not  tell  me  things  and  yet  you  gen 
erally  do.  Do  not  say  you  will  not  tell  me,  for  I  want 
you  to  tell,  and  I  think  you  will." 


1 70   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

I  forebore  pressing  the  question,  however,  at  this 
time,  as  I  saw  it  would  be  useless,  but  securing  her 
promise  to  allow  me  to  come  down  to  her  cabin,  and 
there  obtain  more  photographs  of  her,  I  determined 
to  use  that  opportunity  for  further  queries  on  the  sub 
ject  of  the  basket. 

In  the  mean  time  she  told  her  story  in  the  grapho- 
phone,  and  I  now  have  the  cylinder.  Unfortunately 
she  was  so  afraid  of  the  machine  that  in  spite  of  all  my 
urgings  her  voice  was  low  and  timid,  and  did  not  make 
much  impression.  It  is  clearly  to  be  heard,  however, 
when  one  is  perfectly  still,  hence  is  a  valuable  record. 

The  following  day  when  I  went  to  her  house,  I  took 
the  basket  along,  and  after  I  had  set  up  my  camera  I 
handed  her  the  basket.  As  I  put  my  head  under  the 
focusing  cloth,  while  she  sat  before  me  at  the  end  of  the 
little  cabin,  holding  the  basket  in  her  hand,  she  volun 
tarily  began  her  story,  her  son,  Condino,  acting  as  in 
terpreter  : 

"There  are  many  times  when  I  lie  down  out  of  doors, 
tired  and  weary,  but  I  cannot  sleep.  How  can  I  sleep? 
I  am  all  alone,  and  as  I  roll  and  toss,  all  at  once  I  think 
I  can  see  that  wicked  man  riding  up  to  the  top  of  the 
hill  and  looking  down  upon  our  little  home,  and  I  hear 
him  cry,  'Juan  Diego!  Juan  Diego!'  Then  I  see  my 
poor  husband,  tired  and  sleepy  almost  to  death, 
stagger  to  the  doorway,  and  that  wicked  man,  shouting 
foul  oaths,  put  his  gun  to  his  shoulder  and  fire,  bang! 
bang !  —  two  shots  —  right  into  the  heart  of  my  poor 
husband.  And  I  see  him  fall  across  the  doorway,  and 


RAMON A'S    STAR    BASKET  171 

although  the  blood  was  oozing  from  his  dead  body,  and 
I  knew  I  had  now  no  husband,  that  cruel,  bad  man  pulls 
out  his  little  gun  and  fires  again,  ping!  ping!  ping! 
ping !  four  more  shots  into  his  dead  body. 

"When  I  see  this,  how  can  I  sleep?  I  cannot  sleep, 
and  my  face  becomes  wet  with  many  tears. 

"Then  I  look  up  into  the  sky,  and  there  I  see  the 
Big  Star  and  all  the  little  stars,  and  I  think  of  what  the 
good  padre  Hahn  has  told  me,  that  my  husband,  Juan 
Diego,  has  gone  somewhere  up  there.  I  don't  under 
stand.  I  am  only  a  poor  ignorant  Indian,  but  the  priest 
understands,  and  you  white  people  understand;  and 
he  says  that  Juan  Diego  has  gone  there  and  that 
he  is  very  happy,  and  that  if  I  am  a  good  woman  I  shall 
go  there,  too,  and  I  shall  be  very  happy,  because  I  shall 
be  with  him.  And  when  I  think  of  this,  it  makes  me 
feel  good  here  (putting  her  hand  over  her  heart  and 
body)  and  my  head  does  not  feel  so  dizzy,  and  I  am 
able  to  turn  over  and  go  to  sleep." 

"So  that  was  why  you  made  the  basket,  was  it,  Ra- 
mona,  that  you  might  see  the  Big  Star  and  the  little 
stars  even  in  the  daytime,  and  it  might  make  you  feel 
good  to  see  them?" 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "that  was  it." 

"Then,"  said  I,  "if  the  basket  gave  you  so  much 
comfort,  Ramona,  why  did  you  sell  it?" 

As  I  asked  the  question  such  a  look  of  despair  came 
over  the  face  of  the  poor  woman  as  I  shall  never  forget, 
and  raising  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  helpless  hope 
lessness  she  exclaimed:  "I  wait  a  long,  long  time,  and 


1 72   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

I  no  go.  I  want  to  go  many  times,  but  I  no  go.  I  stay 
here  and  I  no  want  to  stay  here.  Nobody  love  me  here, 
white  people  no  love  me,  Indians  no  love  me,  only 
Condino  love  me  and  I  heap  tired!  I  heap  tired!  I 
want  to  go !  I  no  go ! " 

And  then  flinging  the  basket  away  from  her  in  a  per 
fect  frenzy  of  fury,  she  shrieked,  "Basket  say  I  go!  I 
no  go !  Basket  heap  lie !  Basket  heap  lie ! " 

So  that  I  see  in  this  basket  not  only  a  beautiful  piece 
of  work,  with  dainty  colors  arranged  in  exquisite  har 
mony,  but  I  see  the  longings  of  a  woman's  soul  to  be 
again  with  her  husband  in  "the  above,"  her  aspirations 
to  be  at  rest,  and  alas!  the  sickness  of  heart  that  conies 
from  hope  long  deferred  —  a  woman's  despair, 


CHAPTER  XIV 
AN  INDIAN'S  FUNERAL  IN  RAMONA'S  GRAVEYARD 


'  I  ^HE  death  of  a  strong  man  anywhere  is  generally 
-*•  accompanied  by  pathetic  sadness,  but  it  seems  to 
me  this  is  more  true  among  a  rapidly  declining  people 
than  anywhere  else.  In  a  large  community  there  may 
be  as  much,  or  more,  individual  sorrow  and  sense  of 
loss,  but  when  a  strong  man  is  removed  from  a  com 
munity  where  there  are  but  few  strong  men,  and  each 
one  counts  for  much,  the  whole  body  feels  the  loss  as 
if  it  were  personal.  • 

On  the  occasion  of  one  of  my  visits  to  Cahuilla  I  saw 
the  funeral  of  such  a  man,  and  at  another  time  the 
funeral  of  a  woman.  Both  bodies  were  buried  in  the 
graveyard  where  Ramona  had  shown  me  that  Juan 
Diego  was  buried,  so  it  required  but  a  very  slight 
stretch  of  the  imagination  to  see  this  as  the  funeral 
of  Diego  himself.  Hence  the  appearance  of  the 
description  of  the  ceremony  in  these  pages,  for  with 
exactly  such  a  ceremonial  was  the  body  of  the  mur 
dered  Indian  committed  to  the  tomb. 

It  was  a  dark  night  when  we  set  out  for  the  house 
where  the  corpse  was  being  "  watched."  The  glare 
of  a  camp  fire  with  a  number  of  men  sitting  around  it 


174   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

led  us  to  the  spot.  In  the  rear,  where  it  was  dark, 
half  a  dozen  or  more  young  men  were  sitting  and  stand 
ing,  smoking,  chatting,  laughing  and  acting  as  young 
hoodlums  of  any  race  or  color  do  anywhere.  As  we 
stepped  into  the  house  by  the  rear  door,  we  saw  by  the 
dim  light  of  two  candles  in  the  front  room  that  in  this 
small  lean-to  a  sister  and  child  of  the  dead  man  were 
stretched  out  on  the  bare  ground  by  the  side  of  the 
cook  stove.  The  poor  creature  was  utterly  exhausted 
with  her  care  of  the  dead  man,  and  now  Nature  had 
kindly  thrown  the  oblivion  of  sleep  over  her,  from 
which  we  hoped  she  would  not  awake  until  morning. 
Other  mourners  were  squatted  in  this  small  room. 
Standing  at  the  doorway  of  the  main  room  —  a  rude 
lumber  shack  —  and  gazing  in,  we  saw  the  corpse 
dressed  in  black,  stretched  out  on  a  tiny  raised  plat 
form  on  the  right.  Two  lighted  candles  were  at  its 
head.  Seated  around  on  the  bare  ground,  which  was 
the  only  floor  to  the  room,  were  a  number  of  mourners, 
many  of  them  women.  Two  Indian  men,  acting  re 
spectively  as  funeral  director  and  lay  reader,  sat  at  the 
foot  of  the  body  and  occasionally  sang  in  minor, 
dolorous  strains  some  hymn  or  prayer.  Parallel  with 
the  corpse  lay  an  old  woman,  the  dead  man's  mother, 
so  utterly  exhausted  that  she  was  sound  asleep.  She 
had  been  on  her  knees  when  she  fell  asleep,  and  had 
rolled  over  partially  on  her  back. 

Her  face  was  turned  up,  and  so  full  of  woe  and 
misery,  even  in  her  sleep,  that  one's  heart  bled  for  her. 

We  stood  and  waited!     For  half  an  hour  there  was 


IN  RAMONA'S  GRAVEYARD  175 

dead  silence,  broken  only  by  the  chatter  of  the  boys 
and  barking  of  the  dogs  without.  Then  the  Indian 
lay  brother  stood  up  and  prayed  rapidly  but  quietly 
for  a  few  minutes.  Again  silence  reigned  supreme, 
to  be  broken  after  a  long  lapse  by  his  starting  the  hymn 
of  prayer  to  our  Lady  of  Guadaloupe.  He  sang  sweetly 
and  in  good  tune,  but  on  a  pitch  much  too  low.  The 
chorus  was  somewhat  as  follows : 


In  a  sweet,  gentle  manner  the  women  joined  in  this 
chorus  which  was  many,  many  times  repeated.  Then 
another  silence!  Soon  the  lay  brother  and  another 
man  knelt  and  read  an  invocation  to  the  Saints,  in 
which,  after  mentioning  the  name  of  the  Saint,  all 
those  present  repeated  "  Ora  pro  nobis."  The  candles 
were  then  placed  in  a  new  position  at  the  head  of  the 
corpse,  and  most  of  the  women  moved  outside,  where 
a  camp  fire  had  been  built  by  the  side  of  the  house. 
Some  of  the  women  had  children  on  their  arms,  who 
were  fretful  and  peevish  at  being  disturbed.  Some 
had  dogs  which  snarled  at  every  one  else's  movements, 
and  now  and  again  rushed  into  the  dark  to  bark  and 
growl  viciously  at  some  unknown  foe.  And  there,  in 
the  weird  darkness,  made  all  the  more  real  and  intense 
by  the  blaze  which  now  and  again  rose  from  the  camp 
fire,  the  mourners  sat  out  the  night.  Once  in  a  while 
they  threw  their  shawls  or  a  white  cloth  over  their 


176   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

heads,  and,  swaying  to  and  fro,  wailed  and  moaned  and 
sobbed,  or  yielded  to  the  frenzy  of  their  grief  and  yelled 
in  a  piercing  and  blood-curdling  manner. 

A  little  distance  from  the  camp  fire,  a  ramada  — 
a  shack  of  tree  trunks  and  branches  —  had  been 
constructed,  in  which  was  a  table  covered  with  refresh 
ments,  biscuits,  coffee  and  acorn  mush.  Now  and 
again  a  man  or  woman  went  for  a  little  refreshment  and 
then  resumed  his  or  her  place. 

Before  five  o'clock  next  morning  the  corpse  was 
placed  in  a  box  neatly  covered  with  black  cloth,  and 
brought  in  a  wagon  to  the  church.  The  women  sat 
on  the  right-hand  side,  on  the  rude  benches,  silent, 
subdued,  and  sorrow  stricken,  but  only  a  few  men 
came  in  and  sat  on  the  other  side.  These,  except  the 
lay  brother  and  another,  remained  but  a  short  time. 
After  an  hour  or  more  of  this  silent  waiting  the 
brother  read  a  short  service  and  the  coffin  was  placed  in 
the  wagon.  Quite  an  excitement  was  caused  by  the 
frightening  of  one  of  the  horses  in  the  wagon,  who  fell 
down  in  his  frantic  struggles  to  get  away.  After  the 
scared  creature  was  quieted,  the  rude  procession 
marched  over  to  the  graveyard,  where  a  service  was 
conducted  as  decorously  as  in  any  city.  As  soon,  how 
ever,  as  the  body  was  lowered  in  the  grave,  every  woman 
arose  and  threw  upon  the  coffin  a  handful  of  dirt,  and 
then,  throwing  her  apron  over  her  head,  yielded  to  an 
abandon  of  grief  and  despair  that  was  heart-breaking. 
The  wails  were  piercing.  As  the  lay  brother  and  cap 
tain  began  to  cover  up  the  coffin  the  chief  mourners 


IN  RAMONA'S  GRAVEYARD  177 

continued  their  weeping  and  wailing  by  the  side  of  the 
grave,  but  those  who  had  dead,  buried  elsewhere  in  the 
graveyard,  went  each  to  the  grave  most  precious  to  her, 
and,  removing  the  weeds,  smoothing  down  the  un- 
sodded  soil,  wailed  and  cried  to  her  heart's  content. 
Soon  after  the  grave  was  filled  and  covered  with  the 
usual  shaped  mound,  one  by  one  the  mourners  de 
parted  to  their  homes  —  the  relatives  going  last,  bear 
ing  their  sorrow  from  henceforth  bravely,  silently,  and 
apparently  with  stoicism,  but, nevertheless, with  a  keen 
ness  of  feeling  as  deep  and  as  sincere  as  that  shown  by 
any  civilized  person  who  has  placed  his  beloved  dust 
in  the  earth. 


'CHAPTER  XV 

THE    INDIANS   OF   RAMONA'S   COUNTRY 

TN  my  volume  In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions  of 
•*•  California  I  have  treated  with  some  degree  of  fullness 
the  condition  of  the  Indians  of  California  at  three 
epochs,  viz.:  I,  prior  to  the  coming  of  the  Franciscan 
padres,  II,  while  under  their  influence  and  teaching, 
and  III,  after  the  demoralization  of  the  Mission  sys 
tem  by  secularization.  Necessarily  the  Indians  of  the 
Ramona  epoch  are  those  after  the  time  of  seculariza 
tion,  and  as  interest  in  them  has  been  aroused  in 
thousands  of  hearts  by  the  story  of  Ramona  it  is  appro 
priate  that  a  glimpse  be  taken  of  them  as  they  now 
appear.  It  can  only  be  a  glimpse,  as  the  area  in  which 
they  are  to  be  found  is  large,  and  there  are  a  number  of 
villages  to  visit.  They  are  commonly  known  as  the 
Mission  Indians,  and  most  of  them  were,  in  the  days 
of  the  padres,  directly  under  Mission  influence.  A  few 
were  not,  though  belonging  to  the  same  stock  as  the 
others.  Hence,  ostensibly,  the  major  portion  are 
Catholics,  while  all  retain,  more  or  less,  some  features  of 
their  heathendom,  and  especially  of  their  ancient  dances 
and  aboriginal  superstitions.  At  Banning  and  Mar 
tinez  are  Protestant  chapels,  and  there  are  Protestant 


INDIANS    OF    RAMON A'S    COUNTRY    179 

missionaries  at  several  other  locations.     In  the  main  the 
Mission  Indians  are  a  peaceable,  industrious  and  home 
loving  people,  though,  occasionally,  when  whiskey  is 
introduced  upon  their  reservations,  or  they  come  to 
the  towns  and    obtain    it,   they  give   trouble,  as  do 
drunken  whites.     They  are  all  supposed  to  live  upon 
lands  reserved  for  them  by  the  government,  but  most 
of  this  land,  as  is  often  shown,  is  desert,  waterless,  and 
utterly  worthless.     There  are  some  notable  exceptions, 
as  Martinez,  Agua  Dulce,  Torres  and  other  settlements 
in  the  artesian  belt  on  the  Colorado  Desert,  where  the 
lands  are  marvellously  fertile  and   productive,   since 
water  has  been  found  for  them.     The  new  reservation 
at  Pala  has  fine  land  and  about  five  hundred  acres  are 
now  being  irrigated.     This  is  the  land  purchased  for  the 
Palatingwas  evicted  from  Warner's  Ranch,  and  is  one 
of  the  redeeming  features  in  our  evil  treatment  of  the 
Indians.     As   one    reads   the   reports   of   the   various 
Mission  Indian  agents,  since  the  Indian  Department 
was  established,  he  sees  how  constant  and  persistent 
has  been  our  neglect  of  these  people.     Yet  they  have 
never  gone  to  war  and  seldom  given  us  more  than  a 
temporary  excitement  when  treated  with  a  little  more 
injustice   than   usual. 

Their  reservations  are  wonderfully  diverse,  as  are 
the  locations  of  their  villages.  Torres,  Martinez  and 
Agua  Dulce  are  on  the  western  edge  of  the  Colorado 
Desert,  fertile  and  beautiful  with  mesquite  and  grow 
ing  grain;  the  Potrero  at  Banning  is  a  great  fruit 
orchard,  enclosed  by  three  majestic  mountain  peaks, 


180   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

al\  over  eleven  thousand  feet  high,  snow-clad  through 
out  the  year;  Santa  Rosa  is  on  an  almost  inaccessible 
mountain  of  the  same  name,  nearly  nine  thousand  feet 
high.  So  that  no  one  description  will  suffice,  and  yet  in 
life  they  are  much  the  same.  Here  are  a  few  brief  notes 
I  made  at  the  Cahuilla  Reservation  on  one  of  my  visits : 

In  June,  1900,  the  Cahuilla  Reservation,  —  those 
parts  of  it  that  are  irrigable,  was  knee-deep  in  grass, 
and  afforded  pasture  for  many  horses  and  cattle.  Each 
morning  during  our  visit  we  were  awakened  at  sun 
rise  by  the  singing  of  meadow-larks,  linnets  and  many 
other  birds  whose  songs  I  did  not  recognize.  The  air 
was  calm  and  still,  and  sweet  peace  brooded  over  every 
thing.  By  nine  or  ten  o'clock  of  each  morning,  how 
ever,  the  winds  began  to  blow,  generally  from  the  west 
or  southwest,  and  kept  it  up  all  day  until  about  sun 
set.  It  is  a  dry,  electric  wind  and  upon  some  tempera 
ments  is  very  exciting  and  nerve-wearing.  But,  as 
a  rule,  the  Cahuillas  are  not  of  a  nervous  temperament. 
While  they  are,  as  Mrs.  Jackson  says,  "  a  clear-headed, 
individual  and  independent  people,"  they  possess  the 
full-blooded  corpulency  of  the  negro,  rather  than  the 
slim,  nervous  habit  of  some  tribes.  As  a  rule  the  men 
are  strongly  built,  muscular,  robust  and  of  the  average 
height  of  the  white  man.  In  some  cases  this  robust 
ness  is  almost  coarse  corpulency,  and  among  the  women 
of  middle  age  this  is  invariably  the  appearance  they 
present. 

The  young  boys  and  girls  are  trimly  built,  and  show 
no  indication  of  the  fatness  of  later  years. 


INDIANS   OF    RAMON A'S    COUNTRY    181 

The  reservation  is  southwest  of  the  San  Jacinto 
mountains,  and  while  comparatively  large  in  area, 
has  little  arable  or  pasture  land.  The  good  land  is 
found  in  small  patches  of  a  few  acres  in  the  midst  of  a 
hilly  region  strewn  with  immense  granite  boulders, 
many  of  which  are  of  such  size  and  form  as  to  demand 
special  attention.  To  some  of  these  legends  are  at 
tached,  as,  for  instance:  On  the  way  from  the  school 
house  to  the  Durasno  Canyon,  on  the  left  hand  side  of 
the  road,  is  a  tall,  shapely  rock  which  the  Cahuillas 
call  the  "  Old  Man."  In  the  pasture  to  the  right  is  the 
"  Old  Woman,"  with  her  brood  of  larger  and  smaller 
children  around  her.  The  story  is  that  in  the  long  ago 
the  man  was  unkind  to  the  woman  and  he  was  com 
pelled  to  leave  her  and  remain  solitary  and  alone,  in 
sight  of  his  wife  and  children,  envying  them  their 
happy  home  life  and  realizing  that  he  had  deliberately 
thrown  his  own  share  in  it  away.  They  were  not 
allowed  to  die,  but  the  Powers  Above  turned  them  into 
stone  and  placed  them  here  in  order  that  they  might 
act  as  a  warning  to  naughty  husbands  in  the  future. 

In  some  of  these  rocky  boulders  are  mortars  used  by 
the  "  old  people  "  for  grinding  or  pounding  their  seeds 
and  acorns.  Most  of  these  have  long  fallen  into  dis 
use,  although  now  and  again  a  family  will  be  found 
still  using  them. 

Here  and  there  are  pictured  rocks  where  rude  repre 
sentations  of  horses,  etc.  have  been  scratched,  but  the 
direct  significance  of  which  I  have  never  yet  been  able 
to  learn. 


1 82   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

Some  of  the  men  and  women  are  as  keen  and  sharp  in 
a  trade  as  a  "down  east  "  Yankee.  Rosario  Casero  is  a 
great  basket-maker.  She  is  the  wife  of  Celso  Casero, 
the  mail  carrier.  In  her  household  are  Felipa  Akwa- 
kwa,  Nina,  and  Fanny  her  sister,  all  of  whom  are  skil 
ful  basket-makers.  When  I  purchased  baskets  from 
her  she  was  as  keen  and  able  to  hold  her  own  in  a  bar 
gain  as  any  one  I  ever  knew.  Although  anxious  to  sell, 
she  would  never  run  any  risk  of  getting  a  less  price 
than  that  upon  which  she  had  determined,  by  show 
ing  her  anxiety.  Nor  would  she  allow  her  price  to  be 
reduced.  This  care  in  her  own  business  matters  could 
well  be  understood,  but  she  not  only  showed  it  for  her 
self,  but  exercised  the  same  watchful  eye  over  all  her 
household.  When  I  questioned  her  about  the  basket 
purchased  —  Of  what  was  it  made?  What  the  sig 
nificance  of  the  design?  etc.,  she  said:  "  You  ask  a  lot 
of  questions  and  take  up  my  time.  Then  you  go  and 
tell  other  people  what  I  tell  you,  or  you  write  a  book 
about  it  and  get  money  for  your  knowledge,  so  you 
must  pay  me,  or  I  tell  you  nothing  more." 

Reservation  life  is  not  exciting.  The  men  are 
shepherds,  cattlemen,  cowboys,  and  engage  in  all 
simple  and  pastoral  industries.  Many  of  them  labor 
in  the  nearest  towns  and  villages  as  gardeners,  pruners 
of  orchards,  haybalers  and  the  like.  They  are  fairly 
industrious  and  generally  to  be  relied  upon  in  what 
ever  they  undertake  to  do.  The  women  attend  to  the 
gathering  and  preparation  of  food,  make  a  little  pot 
tery  and  are  fairly  expert  basket  weavers.  I  once 


INDIANS    OF    RAMON A'S    COUNTRY    183 

asked  Philip  Costo,  a  very  intelligent  Cahuilla  boy,  to 
enquire  among  the  weavers  when  and  where  they 
learned  their  art,  and  to  get  them  to  tell  all  they  knew 
about  the  designs.  His  answer  fully  illustrates  the 
ignorance  of  the  present  generation  about  this  most  fas 
cinating  branch  of  their  work.  I  quote  his  reply  ver 
batim  : 

"  I  have  been  among  old  women  to-day  and  I  have 
asked  them  where  they  learned  to  make  baskets  —  or 
when  and  what  tribe  learned  to  do  this  work  first,  but 
these  women,  who  are  still  alive,  have  said  that  they 
learned  it  from  their  mothers  and  grandmothers,  but 
then  they  do  not  know  when  and  where  their  mothers 
and  grandmothers  learned  to  do  such  work. 

"  But  they  have  said  that  at  first  they  never 
used  to  put  dark  work  on  it  such  as  they  do  nowadays. 
It  was  all  of  white  work  on  it,  now  they  can  make 
letters  on  their  work.  First  when  Mexicans  were  here 
they  traded  them  for  clothing  and  food.  Now  they 
sell  them  for  one  dollar  up  to  seven  dollars  apiece. 
This  is  the  main  business  among  the  Indians  besides 
housekeeping  and  cooking,  etc.  But  now  they 
do  not  know,  as  I  have  said,  when  and  where  they 
learned  to  make  baskets.  So  it  is  hard  to  find  when 
and  where  it  started  from." 

While  I  knew  all  about  their  games  I  asked  Philip 
to  write  and  tell  me  about  them.  Here  is  his  answer: 

"  The  games  that  the  Indians  play  are  peon  and 
foot-and -horse  races.  Peon  game  is  played  by  eight 
men,  four  on  each  side.  There  are  eight  sticks  about 


1 84   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

four  inches  long,  four  of  them  are  white  and  other  four 
are  black. 

"  Each  man  has  white  and  black  stick,  when  they  hide 
these  sticks  they  must  have  one  in  each  hand,  and 
they  must  not  have  two  black  sticks  or  two  white  ones, 
but  one  black  and  one  white.  To  have  two  of  the  same 
color  is  against  the  rules  of  peon  game. 

"  And  they  also  have  fifteen  sticks  about  a  foot  long, 
there  is  a  man  who  keeps  all  these  sticks  and  he  also 
sings  and  keeps  up  the  fire  burning,  which  is  built 
between  these  two  sets  of  fours.  This  peon  game  is 
always  played  at  night  and  there  is  some  money  lost  in 
this  game  for  they  always  bet  money.  When  one  side 
hides  these  short  sticks  the  other  side  tries  to  find  in 
which  hand  they  have  the  white  stick,  for  it  is  the  white 
stick  they  must  look  for,  the  black  one  is  no  good. 

"When  two  or  three  are  found  out,  the  man  who  keeps 
these  sticks  is  called  the  umpire,  he  gives  these  long 
sticks  to  those  that  are  not  found.  When  all  four  of 
them  are  found,  they  give  these  short  sticks  to  the 
other  set  of  four.  Then  they  try  their  luck  to  find 
them,  they  keep  on  changing  till  one  side  gets  all  these 
fifteen  sticks;  the  side  that  gets  these  fifteen  sticks  wins. 
That  ends  peon  game.  This  peon  game  sometimes 
starts  in  the  evening  and  keeps  on  till  sunrise  in  the 
morning.  This  game  has  been  kept  up  ever  since  it 
started  some  years  ago,  and  is  still  played  in  most  of 
the  Indian  Reservations  in  Southern  California.  There 
are  some  Indians  who  are  champion  peon  players  just 
like  base  ball  or  foot  ball  champion  players." 


INDIANS    OF    RAMONA'S    COUNTRY    185 

Though  nominally  Christians,  these  Indians  still 
indulge  in  their  ancient  dances,  whenever  the  old 
anniversaries  come  around.  These  are  known  as  the 
Eagle  Dance,  the  Sea  Dance,  when  they  sing  a  beauti 
ful  song  known  as  Mo-mo-mo-no-wo,  the  Thanksgiving 
or  Harvest  Dance,  the  Death  Dance,  the  War  Dance, 
and  the  Dance  of  Puberty  —  one  for  maidens,  the  other 
for  youths.  All  of  these  are  exceedingly  interesting 
and  I  regret  I  have  not  the  space  here  to  describe 
them.  At  these  dances  ramadas  or  brush -shelters  are 
built,  and  Indians  from  other  villages  and  friendly 
Mexicans  and  whites  are  invited  to  occupy  them.  Too 
often  whiskey  is  brought  in  by  some  unprincipled  out 
sider  and  debauchery  is  the  result.  On  one  occasion 
when  I  was  speaking  of  this  great  evil,  Soleda,  a  Warner's 
Ranch  Indian,  told  me  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Babbitt, 
the  teacher,  that  she  used  to  sell  whiskey  to  the  Pala 
Indians  at  their  fiesta,  and  that  she  did  not  know  it  was 
wrong  to  do  it  until  she  heard  an  Indian  mother  tell 
of  it  to  her  daughter.  In  her  simple,  naive  way  she 
repeated  what  she  heard  somewhat  as  follows : 

"  Look  at  Soleda,  my  little  daughter,  you  do  not 
want  to  do  as  she  did.  In  order  to  make  some  money 
she  did  a  very  wicked  thing.  When  the  fiesta  days 
approached  at  Pala  she  would  get  a  couple  of  large 
demijohns  of  whiskey,  tuck  up  her  dress,  and  barefoot, 
would  walk  over  the  mountains  and  there  sell  her  water 
of  fire  and  evil.  When  she  arrived,  the  captain,  though 
well  aware  of  the  influence  this  evil  drink  would  have 
upon  his  people,  would  circle  a  riata  on  the  ground 


1 86   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

around  her  and  her  bottles  and  give  her  permission 
to  sell  her  liquor  provided  no  one  crossed  over  the  line. 
Then  she  would  sell  to  all  who  came  and  soon  every 
body  would  be  drunk.  The  Indians,  crazed  by  the 
drink,  would  dance  and  shout  and  howl  and  sing  and 
carry  on,  and  fall  into  every  kind  of  wickedness. 
Once  in  a  while  one  man,  aroused  to  greater  evil  than 
the  others  by  the  hateful  drink,  would  try  to  do  some 
especially  desperate  thing  and  then  he  had  to  be  re 
strained  by  being  locked  up.  So,  my  child,  remem 
ber  that  while  it  is  good  to  get  money,  it  is  not  good 
to  get  it  in  an  evil  way." 

Mrs.  Babbitt  asked  Soleda  if  she  did  not  think  she 
was  doing  wrong  when  she  began  selling  whiskey  to 
the  Indians  at  Pala. 

"  No!  "  she  replied,  "  I  was  making  money  upon 
which  my  family  and  myself  could  live." 

"  Then  why  did  you  stop  selling  it?  "  was  asked. 

"  Because  I  learned  that  it  was  wrong.  I  had  not 
thought  of  that  before,  but  when  I  was  taught  that  it 
was  wrong  I  said  I  would  sell  no  more,  and  I  never 
did!" 

"  Was  not  that  because  you  were  found  out  and 
punished?  " 

"No!  No!  I  was  not  found  out.  No  one  said  any 
thing  to  me.  I  stopped  myself,  because  I  wished  to 
when  I  found  out  how  wrong  it  was.  And  it  was  some 
thing  inside  me  told  me  how  wrong  it  was  when  I  heard 
that  mother  talk  to  her  little  girl." 

This  simplicity  of  heart  is  very  often  manifested  and 


INDIANS    OF    RAMONA'S    COUNTRY    187 

yet,  at  times,  the  Indians  show  traits  of  character  that 
are  very  like  other  folks,  as  the  following  true  story 
reveals. 

Motto  and  Modesto  Casero  were  husband  and  wife, 
living  at  Cahuilla.  Silvestre  Saubel  was  capitan,  Or- 
valdo  Pawidt,  sheriff,  and  Lee  Arenas,  alcalde  or  justice 
of  the  peace.  The  husband  and  wife  quarreled.  The 
ostensible  cause  of  the  quarrel  was  that  both  possessed 
an  individual  flock  of  turkeys,  and  she  claimed  that  he 
was  trying  to  sell  her  birds  as  his  own.  The  real  reason 
was  that  she  was  unfaithful  to  him,  and  the  alcalde, 
Lee  Arenas,  was  her  paramour.  As  the  quarrel  was 
open  and  notorious,  the  captain  was  compelled  to  take 
official  cognizance  of  it,  and  he  decided  that  Motto  was 
to  blame.  Accordingly,  he  fined  Motto  by  taking 
away  from  him  all  his  turkeys,  leaving  Modesto  in  full 
possession  of  her  own  flock.  To  prevent  any  hostile 
criticism,  the  captain  shared  Motto's  flock  with  the 
sheriff  and  the  alcalde.  Though  Motto  felt  as  indig 
nant  and  outraged  as  a  white  man  would  have  done 
under  a  similar  legal  decision,  he  saw  that  he  was  help 
less,  so  retired  from  the  scene,  going  to  Riverside  to 
work,  where  no  one  could  accuse  him  of  quarreling  with 
his  wife.  This  was  exactly  what  this  shrewd  woman 
and  the  treacherous  sheriff  had  long  been  planning 
and  hoping  for.  Now  that  he  was  gone  it  was  easy 
to  plot  further  against  him.  He  owned  some  cattle. 
After  he  had  been  away  two  or  three  months  Modesto 
appeared  before  Lee  in  his  official  capacity,  and  swore 
out  a  warrant  for  Motto's  arrest  on  the  plea  that  he 


1 88   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

had  deserted  her,  gone  to  Riverside,  and  refused  to 
support  her.  The  warrant  was  issued,  but  not  served. 
As  Motto  did  not  appear  he  was  fined  a  calf.  This  the 
judge  shared  as  before  with  the  captain  and  the  sheriff. 

When  Motto  learned  that  one  of  his  calves  was  gone 
he  came  home,  determined,  if  possible,  to  protect  his 
property.  But  he  was  no  match  for  his  wife  and  the 
craft  of  these  official  grafters. 

Modesto  provoked  him  to  a  quarrel  and  she  was  so 
abusive  that  he  had  her  put  in  jail.  When  the  case 
was  heard  before  the  judge,  he  fined  Motto  another 
calf  and  released  the  woman.  This  calf  was  shared  as 
before. 

Now  she  had  a  pretext  for  leaving  him,  so  she  went 
away  and  lived  with  her  relatives.  Though  she  was 
so  cruel  and  deceptive,  poor  Motto  still  loved  her,  and 
went  to  the  captain,  appealing  to  him  to  aid  him  to  per 
suade  her  to  return  and  live  with  him.  Their  appeals 
were  vain.  They  then  came  to  the  teacher,  Mrs. 
Salsberry,  and  asked  her  to  appeal  to  Modesto.  When 
she  did  so,  Modesto  positively  refused  to  return  to  her 
husband.  When  asked  if  there  were  any  reasons, — 
Was  he  unkind  ?  Was  he  unfaithful  ?  Did  he  not  give 
her  enough  money  to  live  on?  —  Modesto  could  not 
say  anything  against  Motto,  but  she  constantly  iterated 
that  his  sisters  were  mean  and  unkind  to  her. 

The  affair  had  now  become  a  village  scandal,  and 
the  old  men  and  women  met  several  times  in  council 
to  see  if  it  could  not  be  properly  settled.  But  Modesto 
defied  them  all,  and  the  old  men  were  nonplussed. 


INDIANS    OF    RAMONA'S    COUNTRY    189 

In  their  dilemma  they  came  to  seek  Mrs.  Salsberry's 
advice  and  it  was  pathetic  to  hear  them,  as  they  un 
folded  the  problem  in  all  its  complexities  (certain 
features  of  which  Mrs.  Salsberry  now  learned  for  the 
first  time),  and  said:  "We're  only  poor  ignorant 
Indians  and  don't  know  what  to  do.  We  come  to 
you  to  advise  us." 

On  the  night  that  Mrs.  Salsberry  was  appealed  to, 
Modesto  and  Lee  openly  and  defiantly  settled  the 
whole  thing  by  announcing  that  henceforth  they  were 
going  to  live  together  as  man  and  wife,  and  Modesto 
took  up  her  quarters  in  Lee's  house. 

Disheartened  and  discouraged,  Motto  again  left 
Cahuilla,  disposed  of  his  cattle  and  disappeared. 
About  a  year  later  Lee  Arenas  was  arrested  by  white 
officers  of  the  white  man's  laws  for  stealing  white 
men's  cattle.  He  was  tried,  convicted  and  sent  to  the 
penitentiary. 

One  would  naturally  think  the  story  and  the  con 
flict  would  come  to  an  end  here.  But  it  is  not  so. 

Soon  after  Lee's  conviction,  a  girl  baby  was  born 
to  Modesto,  it  being  commonly  supposed  of  course 
that  Lee  was  its  father.  Modesto  lived  and  cared  for 
the  child  for  about  two  years,  then  died.  On  her  death 
bed  she  willed  the  child  to  her  mother,  Maria  Los 
Angeles.  But  no  sooner  was  she  buried  than  the 
mother  of  Lee  Arenas,  her  pseudo  husband,  claimed  the 
little  one,  and,  making  appeal  to  the  captain,  a  council 
was  called  to  decide  the  matter. 

Again  conflicting  interests  and  lack  of  firm  or  clear 


190   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

judgment  prevented  any  decision  being  rendered. 
Maria  Los  Angeles  appeared  before  the  council,  and 
so  did  Gertrudes,  Lee's  mother.  It  was  evident  to 
every  one  that  Gertrudes  really  wanted  the  child,  and 
that  Maria  was  holding  on  to  her  more  out  of  mean 
ness  than  anything  else,  but  there  was  the  indisputable 
fact  that  Modesto,  her  daughter,  had  willed  the  child 
to  her.  Finally,  after  one  of  the  councils,  Maria  sent 
word  that  she  would  sell  her  rights  to  the  baby  foi 
thirty  dollars  and  two  ponies. 

Another  council  was  called  to  discuss  the  offer  and 
while  it  was  in  session  the  baby  herself  settled  the 
whole  question  by  suddenly  dying. 

Taken  as  a  whole  Indians  are  like  other  people, — 
some  are  good,  some  are  bad,  most  are  mixtures  of 
both.  Appeal  to  the  good  in  them  and  they  respond; 
appeal  to  the  bad  and  they  yield  to  the  temptation. 
Being  human,  and  of  like  passions  as  ourselves,  the 
wonder  is  that  after  their  years  of  heartless  and  dis 
honest  treatment  they  are  as  good  as  they  are.  While 
I  see  their  faults  and  never  allow  myself  to  be  blind 
to  their  evils,  I  am  always  glad  to  see  their  good.  I 
find  much  of  it,  and  when  goodness  is  combined  with 
the  simplicity  and  childlikeness  of  the  uncorrupted 
Indian,  then  there  is  a  combination  that  is  as  delightful 
as  it  is  rare.  This  combination  I  have  found  far  more 
often  among  the  Indians  than  I  have  in  my  own  race. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THREE  TRUE  STORIES  OF  INDIANS  IN  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

TNDIANS  are  not  all  good,  any  more  than  are  white 
•*•  people.  There  are  good,  bad,  and  indifferent  in  all 
races.  Occasionally  a  character  stands  out  boldly 
from  the  rest,  either  because  of  striking  and  excep 
tional  goodness,  bravery,  heroism,  or  the  reverse. 
The  annals  of  our  own  race  are  full  of  stories — true  to 
fact  —  of  men  and  women  who  have  done  brave,  noble, 
heroic,  tender,  loving  deeds,  and  we  love  to  dwell 
upon  these  deeds.  They  elevate  and  inspire  us,  and 
thus  lift  our  own  souls  above  the  deadly  level  of  a 
mediocre  monotony.  But  it  is  hard  to  be  as  just  to  a 
people  we  have  often  had  to  fight,  who  have  often 
severely  punished  us,  —  outwitted  us,  outfought  us, 
out-generaled  us, —  and  against  whom  we  have  per 
petrated  many  and  varied  wrongs,  and  to  tell  stories 
of  their  brave  and  heroic  deeds,  their  acts  of  goodness, 
as  we  would  of  our  own.  It  is  a  strange  psychologic 
fact  that  men  hate  those  they  have  injured.  The  fact 
of  our  having  done  the  Indian  so  much  injustice  leads 
many  of  our  race  to  hate  them,  to  wilfully  close  their 
eyes  to  there  being  any  good  in  them,  and  to  see  noth 
ing  in  them  but  meanness,  evil  and  that  which  is  to  be 


1 92   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

despised.  So  long  as  I  live  I  propose  to  utter,  both 
by  pen  and  voice,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  appro 
priately  and  inappropriately,  my  emphatic  and  vigor 
ous  protest  against  this  mental  attitude  of  my  own 
people.  Condemn  the  Indian  for  his  vices,  just  as  you 
would  the  white  man,  punish  him  for  his  crimes,  chas 
tise  him  for  his  ignorance  and  meanness,  scorn  him  for 
his  pecadillos  if,  in  your  own  wisdom,  purity  and  per 
fection,  you  feel  you  must,  but  at  least  be  honest  and 
just,  and  when  you  see  a  good  thing  in  him  declare  it 
to  the  world.  In  this  spirit  I  recount  the  three  stories 
that  follow.  They  are  true,  and  they  truthfully  repre 
sent  many  Indians.  They  are  not  rare  and  isolated 
cases.  They  are  as  much  types  as  are  any  of  the  same 
kind  of  stories  written  about  our  own  race. 

PEDRO   LUCERO    AND    HIS   WIFE 

(The  Story  of  an  Old  Couple's  Love) 
Few  people  took  him  for  an  Indian.  He  was  so  in 
telligent  and  bright;  then,  too,  he  had  a  moustache 
and  full  beard  of  snowy  white  hair,  and  these  were  so 
rare  that  everybody  imagined  him  to  be  a  Mexican,  a 
member  of  some  dark-faced  race,  perhaps,  but  not  an 
Indian.  Yet  he  was  pure-blooded  and  proud  of  it. 
"  There  is  nothing  but  the  blood  of  the  Saboba  in  my 
veins,"  he  would  say,  with  pride.  "  I  and  my  fore 
fathers  and  foremothers  are  all  Sabobas,  and  we  have 
lived  here  for  many,  many  generations." 

Saboba  was  where  they  lived,  near  San  Jacinto,  in 
Southern  California,  and  the  story  told  me  by  Lucero 


Jose  Pedro  Lucero  and  his  wife  at  their  home  in  Saboba 

Page   192 


I 


1 


Jose  Pedro  Lucero,  a  story-teller  of  the 

Saboba  Indians 

Copyright    1899,  by  George  Wharton 
James  Page  192 


Two  of  the  Indians  that  were  evicted 

from  Warner's  Ranch 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  236- 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  193 

as  to  the  coming  of  the  Sabobas  to  this  place  is  given 
in  another  chapter. 

Everybody  knew  Pedro  and  his  wife.  They  were  a 
loving  couple,  though  aged,  wrinkled  and  worn. 
"  Poor  "  was  no  name  to  describe  the  abject  wretched 
ness  of  their  lot,  yet  in  each  other's  love  they  were 
content,  nay,  even  happy.  But  Pedro  was  blind.  I 
never  asked  him  whether  he  was  born  blind,  or  if  it  was 
the  result  of  some  later  accident,  but  ever  since  I  have 
known  him  he  has  been  without  the  power  of  sight. 
His  wife  was  a  quiet,  even-tempered,  sweet-spirited, 
industrious  old  woman;  one  of  the  few  remaining 
basket-makers  of  the  Sabobas,  and  she  would  sit 
hard  at  work,  day  in  and  day  out,  shaping  the 
pliant  willow  and  tule  root  into  the  useful  and  pretty 
baskets  that  in  these  days  we  have  learned  so  much  to 
value. 

They  didn't  have  much  of  what  we  should  call  intel 
lectual  intercourse.  There  were  no  chats  on  the  latest 
operas,  or  novels,  or  poems,  or  pictures.  They  did  not 
discuss  the  newest  scientific  theories  and  argue  about 
the  descent  of  man,  or  life  being  a  product  of  ferment. 
One  would  have  thought  there  was  little  to  bind  them 
closely  together.  Poverty  is  said  to  be  "  grinding  "  ; 
and  where  one  is  "  ground  "  he  does  not  generally  feel 
loving  and  gentle.  Still  this  couple  were  ever  loving 
and  gentle  one  with  another.  The  old  woman  would  talk 
to  the  old  blind  man,  and  he  would  reply,  and  a  look 
of  content  and  peace  would  come  over  his  face  in 
spite  of  his  sightless  orbs.  For  they  loved  each  other 


1 94   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

deeply,  truly,  faithfully,  lastingly.  Theirs  no  fair- 
weather  love,  while  youth  and  good  looks  lasted;  no 
formal  tie  to  be  severed  at  will  for  a  younger  man  or 
woman,  but  a  true  union  of  hearts  —  Indian  hearts 
though  they  were  —  and  their  ever-present  reward  was 
a  conjugal  happiness  to  be  envied.  Happiness  is  a 
relative  term,  and,  as  the  Christ  put  it,  it  comes  not 
from  without;  "  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  you." 
Poverty  and  squalor  cannot  affect  it,  for  it  is  a  state 
within.  The  "  diners  on  herbs  "  might  enjoy  it  and  the 
"  f casters  on  stalled  ox  "  know  nothing  of  its  calm 
delights  and  perpetual  inner  banquets.  These  two 
loved,  and  in  the  gentle  serenity  of  that  never  failing 
devotion  to  each  other  the  days  passed  in  happiness 
and  content,  and  one,  seeing  them  as  I  did,  could  wish 
them  nothing  better  than  to  pass  out  into  the  beyond 
together,  thus  loving  and  being  loved. 

But  the  cyclone  considers  not  the  gamboling  of  the 
innocent  lamb.  The  tornado  sweeps  with  equally 
direful  force  over  the  happy  as  well  as  the  wretched, 
just  as  the  rain  falls  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust.  The 
stormy  blasts  of  winter  have  no  discernment  of  the 
poorly  clad,  and  the  disasters  of  the  earthquake  smite 
the  deserving  and  the  good  as  well  as  the  undeserving 
and  the  bad.  So  it  need  not  seem  strange  that 
when  the  earthquake  of  a  few  years  ago  shook  up  South 
ern  California  it  slew  the  wife  of  Pedro  as  well  as  several 
other  women,  none  of  whom,  perhaps,  were  as  happy 
in  conjugal  bliss  as  she. 

Sad  and  bitter  were  the  wailings  when  the  mournful 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  195 

news  of  these  tragic  deaths  was  told:  Assembled 
together  in  an  adobe  hut,  asleep  under  its  walls  after  a 
fiesta  of  celebration  of  the  happy  Christmas  time  (and 
let  us  not  be  too  censorious  that  their  feasting  was  of 
the  grosser  kind),  the  temblor  de  tierra  came,  one  of 
the  walls  fell  and  the  lives  of  the  sleeping  women  were 
instantaneously  dashed  out,  Pedro's  wife  being  among 
the  number. 

He  himself  was  also  a  victim  of  the  earth's  unsteadi 
ness.  Leg  and  collar  bone  (I  think  it  was)  were  shat 
tered,  and  when  the  dead  body  of  his  wife  was  found 
and  brought  out  into  the  sunlight,  Pedro  was  lying 
in  agony  and  pain,  broken  and  shattered  in  body.  Out 
of  kindness  he  was  not  told  of  his  aged  companion's 
tragic  death.  The  Indian  agency  doctor  visited  him 
and  gave  him  all  the  benefit  possible  of  his  great  skill 
and  knowledge.  Ever  since  Pedro  had  opened  his 
heart  to  the  doctor,  when  he  and  I  some  years  before  had 
talked  with  him  about  the  origin  of  his  people,  the  phy 
sician  had  taken  the  deepest  interest  in  this  old  blind 
man  and  his  wife,  so  that  now  he  needed  no  urging  to  do 
all  that  could  be  done  to  restore  him  to  health.  The 
fractures  were  reduced  and  the  wounds  treated,  and  the 
pure  natural  life  of  the  old  man  aided  the  surgeon's 
endeavors  so  that  he  seemed  on  the  way  to  speedy 
recovery.  But  all  the  time  he  kept  asking  for  his  wife. 
Where  was  his  wife?  Why  didn't  he  hear  her  voice 
comforting  and  consoling  him  in  his  pain?  That  it 
might  not  retard  his  recovery  the  dreadful  news  was 
still  kept  from  him,  and  he  was  left  under  the  impression 


196   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

that  his  wife,  like  himself,  was  injured  too  seriously 
to  come  to  him,  but  that  she  would  doubtless  soon 
recover.  Tears  rolled  down  his  aged  and  wrinkled 
cheeks  from  his  poor,  sightless  eyes  as  he  thought  of  his 
loved  partner  thus  injured  and  of  his  inability  to 
minister  to  her. 

"  Those  Above  "  had  stricken  them  with  severe 
blows.  Why  was  it?  He  could  patiently  have  borne 
for  himself,  but  his  poor  old  wife  —  she  was  so  feeble, 
and  so  old.  Could  not  she  have  been  spared? 

His  distress  was  pitiable  to  observe,  and  it  was 
only  when  the  doctor  urged  self-control  and  speedy 
recovery  for  her  sake  that  Pedro's  agitation  was 
overcome. 

His  broken  bones  began  to  knit  and  his  wounds  to 
heal.  Speedy  restoration  to  a  fair  degree  of  health  was 
looked  forward  to,  when  it  was  deemed  that  the  time 
had  come  to  tell  him  the  truth.  The  result  was  terrify 
ing.  In  a  few  pathetic  words  this  poor  Indian  exposed 
his  whole  inner  heart. 

"  And  she  is  gone  from  me?  Shall  I  never  hear  the 
gentle  love-sweetness  of  her  voice  in  my  ears  again? 
From  youth  to  old  age  we  have  walked  hand  in  hand 
together,  and  now  she  has  left  me  alone.  She  has  gone 
on  alone.  I  need  her  —  she  needs  me.  Care  for  me 
no  more,  I  must  go  to  her,"  and  straightway  he  turned 
his  face  away  from  all  succor,  refused  all  food,  and  in  a 
few  hours  was  again  walking  hand  in  hand,  though  now 
in  the  Indian  spirit  land,  with  the  aged  wife,  who 
doubtless,  with  himself,  had  renewed  her  youth, 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  197 

A   MOHAVE   AND   HER   LOVE 

On  the  transcontinental  line  of  the  Santa  Fe  rail 
way  at  the  town  of  Needles,  California,  the  train 
always  stops  for  meals  or  change  of  engines,  thus  allow 
ing  time  to  passengers  to  see  the  Mohave  Indians  who 
cluster  around  the  cars  offering  bead-work  and  pottery 
for  sale.  These  Indians  are  in  various  states  of  dress 
and  undress,  the  women  generally  clothed  in  gaudy 
calicoes,  over  which  four  large  and  gay  bandanna 
handkerchiefs,  not  yet  severed  from  each  other,  are 
worn  as  a  kind  of  shawl.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to 
hear  the  travelers  comment  on  these  Indians,  and  I 
have  heard  such  words  as  dirty,  filthy,  loathsome, 
disgusting,  abominable,  inhuman,  dull,  unlovable,  hid 
eous,  repulsive,  and  the  like  epithets,  applied  to  them 
many  times. 

This  story  is  of  two  of  these  very  Mohave  Indians. 
They  have  often  been  seen  at  the  Santa  Fe  depot  at  the 
Needles,  and  I  have  no  doubt  such  words  of  unkind 
judgment  have  often  been  passed  upon  them.  It  is  a 
tale  of  love  and  devotion  even  unto  and  beyond 
death,  a  story  of  the  affection  of  a  woman  who  could 
not  live  when  the  beloved  object  was  dead. 

I  cannot  say  that  the  hero  was  all  that  the  imagina 
tion  could  paint  him.  Here  is  his  true  portrait.  Of 
medium  height,  athletic  frame,  active  body.  His 
face  was  strong  but  by  no  means  handsome,  from  our 
standpoint.  His  eyes  were  a  dark  brown,  almost  to 
blackness,  his  nose  very  broad  at  the  bottom,  with  wide 
nostrils  denoting  strong  lung  power  and  capacity.  His 


198   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

lips  were  thick,  but  not  unshapely,  his  brows  promi 
nent,  while  the  upper  part  of  the  forehead  was  covered 
with  a  banda,  or  red  handkerchief  tied  around  his  head, 
which  served  the  purpose  of  holding  his  hair  together. 
For  he  had  the  long  flowing  black  hair  of  his  people 
which  came  far  down  over  his  shoulders.  Prominently 
outlined  from  below  the  eyes  to  the  chin  were  deep 
tattoo  marks  which,  of  course,  to  white  eyes,  further 
marred  the  features  of  this  rather  coarse  looking  Indian. 
For  his  face  was  not  clean,  he  was  barefooted,  and 
wore  an  excuse  for  a  belt  in  such  a  way  that  his  shirt 
showed  between  the  bottom  of  his  vest  and  the  top  of 
his  trousers.  Altogether  he  was  not  at  all  unlike 
scores  of  Indians  who  wear  the  white  men's  dress  and 
who  can  be  seen  here,  there  and  everywhere  in  the 
southwest. 

The  "  woman  in  the  case  "  dressed  generally  some 
what  differently  from  the  "full  dress  costume"  she 
wears  in  the  illustration.  A  calico  skirt  and  waist, 
a  tedrum  of  handkerchiefs  thrown  over  her  shoulders, 
rather  scornful  face  and  lips,  face  tattooed,  hair  down 
to  the  shoulders  except  where  banged  over  the  eyes, 
and  her  picture  is  complete. 

The  man's  name  was  Na-qua  —  the  blue  heron  — 
the  woman's  O-cha  —  green  corn.  He  was  much 
married.  He  had  been  wedded  four  times  and  three 
of  his  wives  were  still  living.  He  was  well  thought  of  by 
his  people,  and  was  one  of  the  lesser  chiefs  of  the  tribe. 
At  one  of  the  dances  Ocha,  who  was  just  woman  enough 
to  take  full  note  of  the  men,  was  particularly  struck 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  199 

with  the  earnest  way  in  which  Naqua  did  everything. 
He  danced,  smoked,  sang  with  intense  earnestness. 
She  herself  liked  enthusiasm.  She  wanted  to  marry 
such  a  man,  and  she  found  opportunity  to  look  love 
into  Naqua's  eyes.  He  saw  and  read  the  look.  It 
awakened  a  response  in  his  own  soul.  Before  the 
dance  was  over  (it  lasted  several  days)  he  had  talked 
with  his  three  wives  and  told  them  he  expected  to 
bring  a  fourth  soon  to  his  am;  and  when  everything 
was  arranged  Ocha  became  the  new  wife  of  this  by  no 
means  young  man. 

Did  the  old  wives  quarrel  with  the  new?  Did  she 
cause  trouble  between  them  and  the  husband?  Not 
at  all!  Polygamy  with  them  breeds  no  discord,  and 
Ocha  and  Naqua  were  as  happy  as  could  be,  and  the 
other  wives  accepted  her  as  a  matter  of  course. 

But  death  comes  to  happy  married  people,  even 
though  they  are  polygamists,  and  Naqua  was  stricken 
sick  and  died.  Now,  by  the  stern  customs  of  the 
Mohaves,  a  dead  body  must  be  burned  almost  imme 
diately  after  the  breath  has  left  the  body.  While 
Ocha  stood  weeping  by  the  side  of  the  dying  Naqua, 
his  male  friends  were  preparing  his  funeral  pyre.  A 
hole  was  dug,  some  four  feet  deep  and  wide  and  six 
feet  long.  This  was  filled  with  greasewood.  Over 
this  a  layer  of  dry  cotton- wood  logs  was  placed.  Then 
a  kind  of  three-sided  pen  was  built  up  around  the  hole 
—  one  end  being  left  open  to  allow  the  entrance  of  the 
body.  Great  piles  of  cotton  wood  logs  were  placed 
ready  to  be  put  over  the  body  when  it  was  brought, 


200   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

and  all  was  ready.  In  the  mean  time  eight  of  his  sons, 
nephews  and  grandsons  were  stripped  naked,  except 
for  the  breech-clout,  a  small  gauze  undershirt,  and 
a  red  flannel  cap  embroidered  with  beads.  These  eight 
youths  were  then  gorgeously  painted  all  over  the  body 
where  naked,  and  over  the  shirt,  in  yellows,  blacks, 
browns  and  reds,  in  stars,  stripes  and  other  designs, 
and  provided  with  peculiar  poles  or  wands.  These 
wands  are  sticks  about  six  feet  long,  wrapped  with 
beads,  feathers  and  buckskin,  and  with  a  small  dangling 
fringe  of  stringed  beads  about  six  inches  in  length. 

By  the  time  they  were  ready,  wailing  from  the  ana  of 
the  sick  man  signified  that  the  end  had  come.  Wrapped 
in  his  blanket  his  sons  and  male  relatives,  four  of  them, 
brought  Naqua  to  the  pyre.  They  exercised  the  great 
est  care  not  to  touch  his  dead  body.  That  would  be  a 
great  defilement.  Two  at  the  head,  and  two  at  the 
feet,  they  carried  the  corpse.  At  the  pyre  one  of  them 
grasped  the  head  and ,  straddling  the  logs,  entered  the 
opening  at  the  end  before  referred  to,  while  the  others 
helped  him  place  the  body  in  the  prepared  place.  In  a 
moment  the  foot  opening  was  blocked  with  a  short 
thick  log,  and  the  near  by  logs  piled  up  quickly  over 
the  body.  Then  bundles  of  greasewood  and  arrow 
weed  were  placed  on  top,  and  almost  before  one  could 
tell  how,  half  a  dozen  men  had  applied  fire  in  as  many 
different  places  and  the  cremation  had  begun.  The 
flames  leaped  and  soared  in  their  fury.  The  wood 
crackled  and  roared  in  the  intensity  of  the  quick  fire 
and  a  great  cloud  of  smoke  arose  to  the  heavens. 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  201 

Near  by  one  of  the  chief  medicine  men  of  the  tribe 
stood,  rattling  and  chanting  the  virtues  of-  the  dead 
man.  Here  was  no  untruthful  panegyric.  Every 
thing  he  said  must  be  true  or  great  injury  would  fall 
upon  the  speaker.  Only  the  good  things  that  were 
known  were  spoken  of. 

"  Naqua,  O  Naqua,  thy  body  lies  on  the  funeral 
pile.  Soon  it  will  be  burned  to  ashes.  Soon  we  shall 
see  nothing  of  thee.  But  thy  inner  self,  thy  soul,  will 
shoot  into  the  air  with  the  clouds  of  smoke  and  the 
attendant  spirits  will  take  thee  to  thy  rest.  We  shall 
see  thee  never  again.  Yet  the  good  thou  hast  done 
makes  our  hearts  tender.  With  an  eye  like  an  eagle's 
and  hands  as  strong  and  swift  to  strike  thine  enemies 
as  his  talons,  thy  foes  have  fled  before  thee  in  terror 
or  remained  to  be  slain.  Thine  eye  was  keen  to  see 
and  thy  foot  swift  to  follow  over  mountain,  hills  or 
desert  all  who  did  thee  or  thine  an  injury.  But  they 
were  equally  keen  and  swift  to  do  good  to  those  who 
loved  thee.  Thy  wives,  thy  sons,  thy  daughters  have 
all  felt  thy  goodness.  Thy  relatives  and  friends  have 
been  blessed  often  by  thee.  May  all  the  good  thou 
hast  done  accompany  thee  to  the  world  of  spirits  and 
there  give  thee  joy  until  these  thy  loved  ones  come 
to  thee.  I  have  spoken.  It  will  thus  be." 

At  the  same  time  the  eight  young  men  were  busily 
engaged  in  a  kind  of  hopping  dance  to  and  fro  over  the 
small  region  comprising  the  immediate  surroundings 
of  the  dead  man's  house  and  the  funeral  pile.  Each 
man  whipped  the  air  with  his  sacred  wand,  waving  it 


202   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

up  and  down  as  he  danced.  This  is  supposed  to  drive 
away  the  evil  spirits  while  the  spirit  of  the  dead  man 
is  preparing  for  its  flight. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  relatives  and  friends  of  the 
deceased,  male  and  female,  came  near  to  the  pile  and 
each  took  off  clothing,  some  more,  some  less,  and  threw 
it  on  the  burning  mass.  Others  brought  beans,  mes- 
quite,  corn-meal,  melons,  dried  fruit,  canned  fruit, 
tobacco,  and  other  good  things  and  threw  them  into 
the  flames. 

Poor  Ocha  stood  by,  dry -eyed,  leaning  on  the  shoulder 
of  a  friend  of  mine,  a  white  woman  who  had  deeply 
sympathized  with  her  in  her  grief.  As  the  flames 
surrounded  the  corpse  she  cut  off  all  her  hair,  rapidly 
stripped  herself  almost  naked  of  all  her  garments  and 
threw  them  one  by  one  into  those  flames  that  were 
burning  up  the  body  of  the  object  she  loved  most  on 
earth. 

Suddenly  as  the  supporting  logs  gave  way,  let- 
ing  the  body  fall  into  the  red-hot  pit,  and  the  move 
ment  could  be  seen,  my  friend  assures  me  that  Ocha 
gave  a  deep  sob  and  wail,  and  then  made  so  sudden  a 
spring  as  nearly  to  knock  her  down,  and,  in  a  moment, 
before  any  one  could  interfere,  she  sprang  right  upon 
the  almost  consumed  body  of  her  lord.  The  one  pyre 
burned'  up  the  two  bodies  —  that  of  the  dead  man  and 
the  living  woman.  Hand  in  hand  they  entered  the 
spirit  world  together.  Safe  in  each  other's  love, 
Indians  though  they  were,  they  could  brave  all  the 
dangers  of  the  Unknown  Beyond.  Who  can  depict 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  203 

the  joy  of  Naqua's  spirit  as  that  of  Ocha  joined  it? 
It  is  not  only  the  love  of  the  white  man  or  woman 
that  extends  beyond  the  Gray  Portals. 

THE    MOHAVE    "  RAMONA  " 

"  There's  no  hope  for  the  poor  wretch;  he's  got  to 
go,  that's  all." 

"  What's  that?  Do  you  mean  to  say  his  case  is 
hopeless?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do!  He's  got  smallpox,  and  got  it  bad. 
He's  sure  to  die  and  the  sooner  he  goes  to  the  pest- 
house  the  better." 

The  speakers  were  the  post  surgeon  and  the  Com 
mandant  of  Fort  Mohave,  and  the  subject  of  their  con 
versation  was  a  soldier  who  a  few  days  before  had  come 
down  with  the  dread  disease.  It  is  a  dread  disease, 
even  when  its  victim  is  situated  within  the  confines  of 
civilization,  where  the  best  physicians,  nurses,  sanitary 
appliances  and  conveniences  and  medicines  are  imme 
diately  at  hand.  How  much  more  dread,  then,  when 
its  unhappy  victim  is  located  in  the  heart  of  a  veritable 
Sahara,  several  hundred  miles  from  civilization,  and 
with  no  other  conveniences  than  those  known  at  a 
desert  army  post  on  the  frontier.  For  such  was  Fort 
Mohave,  even  though  located  on  the  Colorado  River. 
This  river,  instead  of  blessing,  curses  the  region 
through  which  it  passes,  draining  away  all  its  moisture 
instead  of  distributing  it. 

So  the  poor  soldier's  case  was  indeed  sad.  He  was 
removed,  with  several  others  who  were  attacked  by  the 


204   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

same  disease,  to  the  rude  wooden  shack  which  served 
as  pest-house,  in  order  that  their  isolation  might  be 
the  more  complete.  Oh,  how  the  fever  burned,  how 
hot  and  parched  his  mouth  and  lips  were.  His  tongue 
seemed  to  be  ten  times  its  normal  size,  and  he  only 
made  a  queer,  half  gasp,  half  groan,  when  he  tried  to 
speak.  His  blood  was  all  on  fire,  and  at  times  his  brain 
burned  so  that  reason  fled,  and  he  was  tortured  with 
the  wild  fantasies  of  delirium. 

Outside,  the  scorching  sun  pitilessly  beat  down  upon 
the  gray  sand,  which  radiated  it  back  again,  making 
the  air  as  hot  as  if  it  were  the  breathings  of  a  fiery 
furnace.  Not  a  cloud  moved  across  the  richly  blue 
sky  and  nothing  tempered  the  fierce  rays.  Hotter  and 
still  hotter  it  became.  Now  the  wind  began  to  blow, 
and  raised  such  furious  clouds  of  sand  as  cut  the  faces 
of  any  unfortunate  enough  to  be  exposed  to  their  fury. 
In  the  hospital-shack,  heat  and  dust  added  to  the  dis 
comfort,  distress  and  suffering  of  the  afflicted  one,  and 
he  rolled  and  tossed  in  his  augmented  agony. 

At  one  of  his  somewhat  lucid  intervals  he  felt  a 
gentle  hand  on  his  fever-stricken  brow.  Soft,  wet 
cloths  were  placed  over  his  lips  and  they  cooled  and 
soothed  him  so  deliciously.  As  he  tossed  uneasily  in 
his  bed  to  escape  the  heat  he  could  tell  that  some 
different  hand  from  that  of  the  rude  soldier,  detailed 
to  nurse  him  and  the  others,  had  arranged  the  bed 
clothes.  There  were  no  creases,  no  lumps,  no  hollows 
in  the  mattress.  The  pillow  lay  just  where  he  best 
liked  it,  and  wet  cloths  were  hanging  in  the  miserable 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  205 

room  to  temper  the  fierce  heat  of  the  burning  desert 
sun. 

In  vain  the  half  conscious  soldier  sought  to  solve  the 
mystery.  He  felt  the  comfort  and  the  restfulness  of 
the  change,  but  was  unable  to  understand  it. 

In  the  officers'  quarters,  however,  it  was  known  and 
understood.  And  there  had  been  considerable  talk 
about  it. 

"  Why,  it's  perfectly  scandalous,"  exclaimed  the 
prim  wife  of  the  captain. 

"  I  don't  like  it  myself,"  said  the  colonel's  wife. 
"  It  doesn't  seem  the  thing  to  let  an  Indian  girl  nurse  a 
sick  soldier.  If  the  men  must  form  illicit  associations 
with  those  rude,  disgusting  creatures,  I  suppose  there 
is  no  help  for  it,  but  to  have  her  go  right  publicly  to 
nurse  him  is  carrying  the  thing  too  far.  I'll  have  to 
see  what  the  colonel  says  about  it!  " 

Accordingly  the  colonel  was  "  seen,"  but  the  results 
of  the  interview  were  never  made  public.  The  only 
public  fact  was  that  Mrs.  Colonel  never  said  any  more 
about  it,  from  which  it  may  have  been  inferred  the 
Colonel  thought  she  had  better  keep  her  hands  off. 

But  others  did  not. 

"  Who  is  the  girl,  anyhow?  " 

"  Why,  she's  old  Box's  daughter.  You  remember 
her,  that  bright,  laughing  girl  that  used  to  watch  the 
parade,  dressed  in  a  skirt  and  a  bead  collar." 

"  Well,  it's  shameful,  and  I  think  it  ought  to  be 
stopped!  " 

All  the  same  it  was  not  stopped,  and  daily,  the  sick 


ao6   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

soldier,  ignorant  of  and  oblivious  to  all  the  scandal  the 
action  of  his  Mohave  nurse  was  causing,  was  slowly 
but  surely  overcoming  the  fierce  power  of  the  disease 
by  the  intelligent  assistance  she  was  rendering  him. 

At  last  came  sanity.  One  morning  he  awoke  per 
fectly  clear-headed.  It  was  early  morning,  and  who 
but  those  who  have  enjoyed  it  know  what  that  means 
on  the  desert.  Cool!  ah,  so  cool  and  delicious  and 
refreshing.  Its  joy  and  comfort  were  marvelous;  its 
refreshment  divine.  Surely  he  must  be  in  heaven, 
after  the  weary  weeks  of  fever  and  horrid  dreams  it 
had  brought  him.  For  three  or  four  hours  he  enjoyed 
it,  his  thoughts  going  now  and  again  to  the  subject  that 
had  puzzled  him  so  often  while  he  was  in  the  throes  of 
the  loathsome  disease. 

All  at  once  he  thought  he  heard  a  step  approaching. 
He  could  barely  hear  it  on  the  soft  and  yielding  sand, 
so  he  knew  it  was  no  white  person,  as  the  whites  seldom, 
if  ever,  walk  barefoot,  and  then,  anyhow,  no  white 
man  was  coming  to  see  him  now.  Then  the  door 
opened,  and  the  key  to  the  mystery  was  offered  him. 
He  knew  now  who  was  the  good  angel  of  his  dreams. 
His  nurse  was  Maha  (the  mockingbird),  old  Dox's 
daughter,  who  used  to  come  for  his  washing  and  to 
whom  once  or  twice  he  had  spoken  in  a  friendly  manner. 
He  had  been  friendly  but  not  free;  jocular  but  not  rude, 
and  perhaps  it  was  that  that  had  separated  him  in  the 
mind  of  the  Indian  girl  from  his  fellows.  For  such  a 
thing  had  never  been  heard  of  before.  The  Indian 
girls  were  generally  terrified  at  the  presence  of  soldiers, 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  207 

and  would  run  far  out  of  the  way  rather  than  meet 
them  away  from  the  protection  afforded  by  "  quar 
ters."  But  here  was  one  who,  when  it  was  known 
that  Frank  was  dangerously  sick  and  not  expected  to 
recover,  had  gone  without  any  request  or  permission 
from  anyone,  gone  just  as  naturally  as  a  mother  goes 
to  her  son,  or  a  wife  to  her  husband,  to  watch  over, 
tend  and  nurse  him.  The  army  surgeon  was  a  wise, 
level-headed  old  dog,  whose  heart,  too,  was  in  the  right 
place,  and  he  had  sense  enough  to  care  nothing  for 
"  proprieties  "  when  the  recovery  of  one  of  his  patients 
was  at  stake.  Here  was  a  chance  for  Frank's  life,  and 
he  was  going  to  let  him  make  the  best  of  it.  So  Maha 
remained,  and  the  patient  began  to  improve  from  the 
hour  of  her  appearance. 

Why  had  she  come? 

Let  the  conversation  she  had  with  her  old  mother, 
who  lived  on  Soapsuds  Row,  be  the  answer. 

"He  is  sick,  my  mother.  He  is  to  die,  the  white 
medicine  man  says,  and  I  am  never  to  have  my  heart 
warmed  by  his  smile  again." 

"  Daughter  of  my  heart,  my  Mohave  mockingbird, 
why  have  you  given  your  heart  to  the  white  soldier? 
You  know  you  can  never  become  his  wife.  If  you  give 
yourself  to  him  he  will  by  and  by  go  away  and  forget 
he  ever  knew  you,  and  to  do  that  is  not  good  for  a 
maiden  who  wants  a  mind  full  of  peacefulness  and  a 
heart  at  rest." 

"  Ah,  mother,  but  my  bosom  swells  with  love  for 
him.  One  day's  love  with  him  would  be  worth  a 


208   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

lifetime  of  other  love.  I  love  him,  I  love  him,  and 
he  knows  it  not,  and  now  the  medicine  man  says  he 
will  soon  die.  Sorrow  is  mine.  Deep  grief  is  my 
bedfellow." 

Twice,  thrice,  for  two  days,  did  Dox  and  her  Maha 
thus  converse,  Maha  growing  more  restless  and  full  of 
woe  as  the  hours  of  the  day  and  night  passed.  At 
length  she  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  on  the  third 
morning  she  stealthily  crept  up  to  the  hospital-shack 
and  there  felt  the  joyous  pain  of  hearing  the  groanings 
of  the  white  man  she  loved,  and  the  wild  ravings  of  his 
delirium.  Yet,  though  changed  by  his  sickness,  her 
keen  ear  knew  it  was  his  voice,  and  though  its  agony 
smote  her  with  cruel  force,  the  fact  that  it  was  his  and 
he  was  alive  rilled  her  with  joy  unspeakable. 

By  and  by  the  door  opened  and  the  night  watcher 
came  out.  Suddenly  an  impulse  entered  Maha's 
heart.  While  the  watcher  was  away  why  should  she 
not  steal  in  and  give  of  her  loving  care  to  the  sick 
soldier?  A  child  of  impulse,  she  obeyed,  and  for  a  few 
delicious,  stolen  moments  sought  to  assuage  his  pain. 
She  was  there  when  the  watcher  returned,  but  she  was 
indifferent  to  his  curses  when  he  bade  her  begone. 
She  sought  her  mother. 

"  I  have  seen  him  and  given  him  sleep,"  she  said. 
"  Soon  I  shall  go  again." 

And  go  again  she  did,  to  the  watcher's  amazement. 
She  came  as  if  she  had  the  right,  and  he,  knowing 
naught  to  the  contrary,  imagined  perhaps  the  doctor 
had  sent  her,  and,  willing  to  be  relieved  of  as 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  209 

much  of  his  unpleasant  duty  as  possible,  was  speedily 
reconciled  to  having  her  stay. 

When  the  doctor  came  he  took  in  the  situation  at  a 
glance;  that  is,  he  thought  he  did,  and,  being 
human,  was  inclined  to  overlook  human  frailty  in 
others,  though  in  this  case  his  charity  and  complaisance 
were  misplaced. 

The  result  was  that  Maha  remained,  and  day  and 
night  saw  her  at  Frank's  side. 

Little  by  little,  as  he  was  slowly  dragged  back  from 
the  death -pit  which  had  yawned  wide  open  for  him,  he 
began  to  realize  what  she  had  done. 

"  Maha,  why  did  you  come?  "  one  day  he  asked  her. 

He  got  no  reply  but  one  sharp,  keen  glance  of  fiery 
sweetness,  and  then  she  bent  her  head  so  that  he  could 
not  see  her  eyes.  Then  she  speedily  went  away  and 
was  seen  no  more  until  the  dusk  of  evening  fell. 

Hour  after  hour  Frank  puzzled  over  it.  At  last  it 
began  to  dawn  upon  him.  He  opened  his  eyes  once, 
suddenly,  and  found  her  eyes  swimming  with  love  for 
him,  and  then  he  knew. 

"  Maha,  come  here.  Do  you  know  what  you  have 
done  for  me?  Do  you  know  whose  my  life  is?  With 
out  you  I  should  have  '  gone  out '  with  the  others. 
(Several  had  died  and  been  buried  during  his  illness.) 
Why  did  you  do  it?  Was  it  because  you  loved  me? 
Ah,  Maha,  I  know  not  how  to  return  such  love  as  yours ! " 

But  from  that  moment  his  heart  became  peculiarly 
tender  towards  her,  and  when  she  next  placed  bandages 
upon  his  head  he  seized  her  swarthy  hand  and  pressed 


210   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

several  kisses  upon  it.  Then,  when  night  time  came, 
and  he  tossed  about,  he  found  that  her  very  presence 
soothed  him,  and  that  when  she  gently  stroked  his 
hand  and  brow  he  speedily  forgot  his  feverish  nervous 
ness  and  slept. 

When  did  he  begin  to  love  her? 

He  could  scarcely  tell,  but  before  he  was  deemed 
convalescent  and  allowed  to  leave  the  shack,  he  had 
discovered  it,  and  frankly  told  it  to  her,  having  bravely 
fought  over  the  whole  battle  of  "  what  his  folks  would 
say,"  and  "  what  would  the  '  boys  '  think  of  it?  " 

He  was  a  man,  and  womanly  devotion  even  to  the 
gates  of  death  had  won  his  warmest  admiration  and 
sincere  devotion. 

Now  came  a  revelation. 

Though  a  common  soldier  he  was  the  son  of  a  proud 
officer  father, —  a  colonel  in  one  of  the  regiments 
located  in  the  East.  He  would  himself  write  to  his 
father  and  tell  him  all  the  facts  and  also  what  he  in 
tended  to  do.  For  he  had  already  resolved  that  Maha 
should  be  his  wife.  He  had  asked  her,  and  she  had 
said  that  what  he  had  decided  was  a  decision  for  her 
also.  And  so  he  decided  as  a  brave  man  should. 

The  doctor  was  taken  into  his  confidence  and  the 
Colonel  was  finally  asked  to  consent.  The  former 
had  carefully  prepared  the  way  and  had  shown  the 
commanding  officer  that  common  humanity  demanded 
that  no  obstacles  be  placed  in  the  way. 

As  soon  as  Frank  was  well  enough  the  strange  couple 
was  duly  married  by  the  chaplain,  and  quarters  allotted 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  211 

them.  For  nearly  a  year  they  lived  together  in  a  hap 
piness  that  was  ideal,  and  that  taught  many  lessons 
to  the  few  married  white  women  of  the  garrison. 

Then  joy  and  sadness  came  to  Frank  in  the  same 
hour.  Maha  gave  birth  to  a  sweet,  beautiful  baby 
girl,  but  as  the  new  life  began  her  own  ceased.  The 
happy  year  was  at  an  end,  and  it  is  no  figure  of  speech 
to  say  that  the  light  of  Frank's  life  went  out.  He 
idolized  his  wife  and  was  overcome  with  profound  grief 
at  her  death.  Such  was  the  effect  upon  him  that  he 
was  granted  a  leave  of  absence  and  he  went  back  East, 
visited  his  stern  old  father,  the  Colonel,  who,  with  his 
daughters,  had  been  horrified  at  Frank's  marriage. 
The  profundity  of  his  grief,  however,  soon  revealed  to 
them  what  his  marital  joy  must  have  been,  and  to  their 
new  amazement  they  found  their  son  and  brother 
actually  grieving  to  death  for  his  loved  one.  Nothing 
they  could  do  seemed  to  have  any  effect.  Slowly  but 
surely  his  life  ebbed  away  and  in  a  few  months  he, 
too,  had  solved  the  mystery  of  the  beyond,  with  Maha, 
his  Mohave  wife. 

As  soon  as  she  heard  of  Frank's  death,  the  grand 
mother,  old  Dox,  spirited  the  baby  girl,  who  had 
already  been  named  Ramona,  away.  For  several 
years  she  was  seldom  seen  by  a  white  person.  She  was 
brought  up  as  any  other  Mohave  child,  a  true  daughter 
of  the  desert.  Then  a  superintendent  took  charge  of 
the  school,  who,  as  soon  as  he  heard  Ramona's  story 
and  found  she  was  old  enough  to  come  to  school, 
determined  that  the  white  man's  daughter  should  have 


212   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

a  white  girl's  education.  He  called  upon  his  Mohave 
policemen  to  find  the  girl  and  bring  her  and  her  grand 
mother  to  him.  There  were  many  tears  and  much 
wailing  and  some  open  defiance,  but  when  Dox  was 
assured  that  she  might  see  her  darling  granddaughter 
any  and  every  day,  so  long  as  she  behaved  herself,  she 
became  more  reconciled. 

The  child  was  put  in  school.  Her  white  blood  soon 
began  to  tell.  She  learned  rapidly  and  showed  a 
sweetness  of  disposition  that  won  natives  and  whites 
alike  to  love  her.  Her  voice  was  as  soft  as  the  sweetest 
notes  of  the  Maha  (mocking-bird)  her  mother  had  been 
named  after.  She  was  not  rough  and  robust  as  most 
of  the  girls  were,  but  gentle  and  dainty  in  all  her  ways. 
Had  it  not  been  for  some  trouble  with  her  eyes,  a 
common  thing  with  the  Mohaves,  and  which  developed 
early  in  her  case,  everyone  would  have  called  her  pretty. 

One  of  the  lady  teachers  became  so  fond  of  her  that 
she  could  not  tolerate  the  idea  of  her  being  ignored 
by  her  father's  relatives,  so  she  began  to  write  letters 
to  the  stern  old  Colonel  in  the  East,  telling  him  about  his 
Mohave  granddaughter.  Evidently  the  aunts  got 
hold  of  these  letters,  for  they  replied.  In  a  year  or  so 
they  wrote  they  were  coming  to  California  and  would 
like  to  see  Ramona  if  they  could  do  so  without  her 
knowledge. 

Soon  afterwards  Ramona  and  half  a  dozen  other 
of  her  companions  were  taken  by  this  teacher  down  to 
the  Needles  to  see  the  train  come  in.  When  it  arrived 
two  well  dressed  ladies  beckoned  to  the  teacher  out 


STORIES  OF  THE  INDIANS  213 

of  one  of  the  cars,  and  she  led  all  the  girls  into  the  draw 
ing-room  where  the  ladies  greeted  them  kindly,  but 
watched  Ramona  with  special  interest.  Not  one  of 
the  girls  had  the  remotest  idea  that  anything  strange 
or  dramatic  was  occurring,  yet  it  was  dramatic  in  the 
extreme.  It  was  the  first  meeting  of  Ramona  with  her 
white  aunts. 

The  girls  left,  the  train  pulled  on  to  California,  and, 
except  that  the  white  ladies  and  their  kindness  were 
often  spoken  of,  the  incident  was  apparently  forgotten 
at  Fort  Mohave.  But  not  so  with  the  aunts.  They 
talked  Ramona  over,  and,  on  their  return  East,  had 
many  and  serious  talks  with  her  grandfather. 

At  length  a  letter  reached  Mohave  from  Indian  head 
quarters  with  instructions  that  the  scene  at  the  railway 
train  was  to  be  repeated,  but  that,  this  time,  there 
would  be  an  elderly  gentleman  as  well  as  the  two  ladies, 
and  that,  if,  when  the  train  went  eastward,  the  gentle 
man  signified  with  a  word  his  desire,  Ramona  was  to 
be  left  on  the  cars  and  her  companions  were  to  return 
to  Fort  Mohave  without  her. 

The  train  arrived  from  the  West.  Happy  and  jolly, 
as  thoughtless  young  girls  generally  are,  the  crowd 
followed  the  teacher  into  the  drawing-room.  The 
ladies  greeted  them  kindly  as  they  had  done  before, 
and  the  stern  faced  gentleman  gazed  at  them,  and 
then,  when  Ramona  was  pointed  out  to  him,  found  his 
glasses  suddenly  covered  with  mist. 

Candies  and  other  sweets  were  distributed,  and  the 
teacher,  hearing  the  All  Aboard!  of  the  conductor, 


214   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

backed  her  young  charges  out,  but  somehow  did  not 
seem  to  notice  that  Ramona  was  left  behind,  and  when 
one  of  the  other  girls  remarked  it,  calmly  said:  "  Oh, 
never  mind." 

And  the  train  pulled  away  with  the  blinds  of  the 
drawing-room  down,  so  that  Ramona  never  even  said 
good-bye  to  her  companions  or  to  Mohave.  It  sped 
away  East  and  took  her  from  the  desert  for  evermore. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BASKET-WEAVING    AMONG   RAMONA'S   INDIANS 

TN  their  basket-weaving  the  Indians  of  Ramona's 
•*•  country  show  themselves  a  people  of  artistic  skill  in 
form,  design  and  execution,  and  of  religious  and  poetic 
feeling.  Indeed  if  they  could  have  been  approached 
by  the  whites  through  their  basketry,  instead  of  by 
ordinary  contact,  they  would  have  been  placed  upon  a 
high  pinnacle  in  the  minds  of  the  American  people. 
To  be  more  explicit:  when  we,  with  our  superficial 
education  in  appearances  meet  with  the  rude  and 
poorly  clothed  Indian,  we  judge  him  by  his  looks.  He 
and  his  squaw  are  dirty,  filthy,  loathsome,  disgusting, 
horrible,  perfectly  abominable,  vulgar,  obscene,  un 
pleasant,  obnoxious,  repulsive,  nasty,  sickening,  vile, 
nauseating,  odious,  offensive,  and  simply  unbearable. 
These  are  all  terms  I  have  personally  heard  applied 
to  Indians  by  short-sighted,  ignorant,  half-educated 
but  elaborately  dressed  Americans,  men  and  women, 
whose  arrogance,  impudence  and  assurance  so  panoplied 
them  that  even  a  surgical  operation  could  not  compel  a 
true  thought  of  the  Indian's  dignity  of  character, 
artistic  abilities,  and  deeply  religious  nature  to  enter 
their  heads.  Clothes  don't  make  the  man  or  woman, 


2i6   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

however  much  some  fools  among  white  men  and 
women  believe  they  do.  To  have  one's  face  and  hands 
well  washed  are  not  proofs  of  a  cleanly  body,  nor  is  the 
reverse  any  more  true.  The  Indian  may  seem  dirty, 
mud  may  cover  his  (or  her)  head,  his  clothes  may  be 
dusty  and  dirty,  and  yet  his  body,  his  skin,  all  over, 
may  be  cleaner  and  more  healthy  than  that  of  the  well- 
dressed  critic  who  stands  by,  judging  entirely  by  appear 
ances.  The  older  Indians,  who  still  use  the  sweat- 
house,  or  temescal,  weekly,  as  a  matter  of  religion,  are 
more  cleanly  in  body  than  most  white  people,  for  a 
Russo-Turkish  bath,  even  though  taken  in  the  Indians' 
crude  way,  is  a  most  effective  cleanser  of  the  skin. 
The  stories  told  in  another  chapter  reveal  what  my 
study  of  the  Indian  has  taught  me  as  to  the  inherent 
nobility  of  his  character,  and  that  Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
did  not  overstep  the  limits  of  probability  or  possibility 
in  her  delineation  of  the  fine  characters  of  Ramona, 
Alessandro  and  the  other  Indians  she  describes. 

And  in  this  chapter  it  is  my  purpose  to  show  some 
what  of  their  thought  and  ability  in  artistic  lines  by  a 
necessarily  brief,  but  analytical  study  of  their  basketry. 

In  a  primitive  stage  of  society  man  finds  neither  time 
nor  opportunity  for  what  we  call  the  fine  arts.  Utility 
is  the  first  need.  Everything  must  be  made  useful. 
It  is  left  for  modern  civilization  to  invent  things  that 
are  "  beautiful  "  and  "  artistic,"  made  by  machinery, 
that  never  had  a  use,  never  can  have  a  use,  and  that 
degrade  those  who  buy  them  by  their  false  assumptions 
as  to  what  constitute  beauty  and  art. 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  217 

The  basketry,  therefore,  of  the  Indians  had  to  serve 
useful  purposes.  The  wide  scope  of  these  uses  can 
well  be  seen  if,  for  a  moment,  we  imagine  ourselves 
devoid  of  all  utensils  made  of  crockery,  earth,  metal 
or  glass.  Take  the  civilized  woman  and  compel  her 
to  a  domestic  life  with  her  kitchen  denuded  of  all 
pots  and  pans  and  kettles  and  crockery  and  earthen 
ware,  and  require  her  to  make  every  utensil  she  needs; 
she  would  then  begin  to  have  some  respect  for  the  in 
ventive  ability  of  her  dusky-skinned  sister.  Basketry 
was  the  universal  ware.  Everything,  from  cradles  to 
houses,  had  to  be  made  of  basketry  of  one  form  or 
another.  The  result  was  that,  in  the  course  of  the 
years,  the  Indian  woman  developed  this  art  to  the  high 
est  degree  and  became  an  expert  in  the  invention  of 
shapes,  the  originating  of  weaves  or  stitches,  the  con 
ception  of  designs,  and  the  digital  skill  required  to  make 
what  she  had  conceived. 

No  collection  of  basketry  perhaps  better  illustrates 
this  than  the  one  made  by  Mrs.  Josephine  Babbitt,  for 
many  years  the  honored,  trusted,  and  beloved  teacher 
of  the  Indians  at  the  school  at  Warner's  Ranch. 
She  was  with  these  Hot  Springs  (Spanish  Agua  Caliente, 
Indian,  Palatingwa)  Indians,  during  the  trying  times 
of  litigation  when  the  owner  of  the  Mexican  grant  was 
seeking  to  have  them  evicted.  She  was  their  friend 
and  counsellor  when  the  final  decision  of  the  United 
States  Supreme  Court  held  that  they  must  go.  She 
accompanied  them  to  Pala,  where  they  were  removed, 
and  would  doubtless  have  been  with  them  still,  had  not 


2i 8   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

her  kindly  interest  in  their  welfare  led  her  to  do  some 
things  that  rendered  her  persona  non  grata  to  those 
with  influence  sufficient  to  secure  her  removal. 

During  her  years  of  intimate  association  and  sym 
pathy  with  them  Mrs.  Babbitt  learned  much  of  their 
inner  thought,  and  in  every  case  she  assures  me  that 
the  interpretations  of  the  designs  of  the  here-pictured 
baskets  were  given  to  her  by  the  Indian  women  who 
conceived  and  wove  them.  To  be  able  to  know  the 
spirit  and  motive  behind  the  work  of  the  Indian 
basket-weaver  is  not  given  to  every  one.  It  is  not  to 
be  bought.  It  is  a  slow  process.  It  is  only  to  those 
whose  loving  sympathy  the  Indian  actually  feels 
that  she  will  open  up  her  heart.  The  Indian  is  keenly 
sensitive  to  ridicule.  She  hates  to  be  misunderstood 
and  to  be  laughed  at.  She  is  but  the  child  of  the 
race  and  children  never  like  to  have  their  dearest 
thoughts  laughed  or  sneered  at.  Hence  the  Indian 
woman  has  learned  to  be  uncommunicative  to  the 
generality  of  white  people,  whom  she  knows  look 
down  upon  her  as  an  inferior  being,  a  savage,  a  cum- 
berer  of  the  earth.  But  Mrs.  Babbitt,  in  teaching 
Indian  children,  learned  the  larger  lessons  of  life  from 
their  parents.  And  the  result  has  been  a  wider  sym 
pathy  with  all  peoples,  and,  as  far  as  the  Indians  and 
their  baskets  is  concerned,  a  knowledge  of  their  inner 
thoughts  granted  to  but  few. 

In  the  full-page  illustration  her  choicest  baskets  are 
shown.  In  the  main  they  are  of  but  two  colors,  white 
or  cream,  with  the  design  picked  out  in  the  varying 


Afr$.  Babbitt's  collection  of  Baskets,  made  by  the  Indians  of  Ramona's  country 

Page  218 


A  Palatingwa  Basket 

Page  219 


The  Burro  and  Trough  Design 

Page  221 


Mrs.  Babbitt's  celebrated  Rattlesnake 
Basket 

Page  222 


Palatingwa  Design 

Page  224 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  219 

browns  of  the  tule  root.  The  center  basket  at  the 
bottom  and  the  one  on  the  top  of  the  overturned  basket 
to  the  right  are  made  of  the  tule  stem,  and  are  woven 
loosely,  so  that  the  basket  acts  as  a  sieve.  I  have  seen 
corn  placed  into  this  kind  of  basket,  and  dipped  alter 
nately  into  lye  and  water.  The  hulls  were  thus  soft 
ened  and  removed  and  hominy  was  produced. 

As  I  have  shown  in  my  book  on  "  Indian  Basketry,  " 
the  chief  art  instinct  of  the  Indian  weaver  found  ex 
pression  in  imitation. 

She  imitated  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  planets  and  the 
stars,  the  mountains,  valleys,  streams,  lightning,  rain, 
clouds,  falling  rain,  whirlwinds,  tornadoes,  rivers, 
springs,  snakes,  birds,  beasts  and  insects,  men,  women 
and  children,  and  then,  when  her  objects  of  imitation 
wearied  her,  she  began  to  vary  them,  ring  changes  on 
them,  as  it  were,  and  thus  invented  new  designs,  which, 
however,  retained  the  names  and  meanings  attached 
to  their  imitative  originals.  Thus  the  St.  Andrew's 
Cross  is  a  variation  of  the  diamond  of  the  rattlesnake, 
and  the  score  or  more  beautiful  star  designs  are  all 
variations  of  the  original  five-pointed  star.  In  the  de 
signs  reproduced  here  are  seen  vultures  or  buzzards, 
hills  and  valleys,  a  net,  arrow  points,  a  rattlesnake  with 
its  diamonds,  dancing  men  and  women,  flowers,  twigs, 
a  burro  feeding  at  its  trough,  several  stars,  a  whirl 
wind,  and  a  variety  of  conventional  designs  that 
require  much  explanation. 

They  are  all  beautifully  worked  out;  each  one  accord 
ing  to  the  thought  of  the  weaver.  It  is  interesting 


220   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

and  educative  to  the  trained  white  artist,  familiar 
with  books  on  art,  drawings,  art  designs,  etc.,  to 
remember  that  the  Indian  woman  has  none  of  these. 
Her  designs  are  in  her  brain,  worked  out  without  pencil 
or  paper,  and  mentally  projected  upon  the  surface  of 
her  basket  before  she  takes  a  stitch,  and  so  perfectly, 
too,  that  she  has  determined  the  exact  size  and  shape 
of  her  basket,  the  exact  stitch  where  she  will  begin  and 
place  every  portion  of  her  design  and  how  it  will  look 
when  completed. 

In  their  skillful  use  of  the  tule  root  which  gives  a 
variety  of  shades  of  brown,  these  Palatingwas  produce  a 
basket  that  for  richness  of  color  effects  surpasses  any 
thing  I  have  ever  seen,  except  the  more  gorgeous 
feather  baskets  of  the  northern  Indians  of  California. 
Sometimes  the  body  of  the  basket  is  in  white,  indeed, 
generally  so,  and  the  design  picked  out  in  the  varying 
shades  of  brown.  On  the  other  hand  the  weaver  will 
sometimes  make  her  basket  of  the  brown  splints  and 
pick  out  the  design  in  white.  The  effect  then  is  most 
strikingly  beautiful.  Such  a  basket  as  this  is  shown 
in  the  woman's  cap,  the  second  from  the  right  in  the 
front  row  on  the  table. 

One  of  the  illustrations  is  of  a  Palatingwa  weaver 
finishing  a  basket,  which  is  now  in  the  possession 
of  Mrs.  Alice  Ward  Bailey,  of  Amherst,  Mass.  It 
is  of  milk-pan  shape,  though  the  sides  are  a  little 
high  for  a  milk-pan,  but  it  makes  a  most  useful  shape 
and  size  for  a  work-basket.  As  a  rule  the  weaver  leaves 
all  the  ends  in  her  work  until  the  basket  is  completed, 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  221 

when  she  washes  it  and  dries  it  thoroughly  in  the  sun. 
Then  with  a  knife  or  piece  of  clam  shell  in  hand  she 
picks  off  each  loose  end  until  the  basket  is  quite  "clean." 
This  basket  has  particular  interest  to  me  as  being  the 
first  basket  finished  by  any  weaver  of  the  evicted 
Palatingwas  after  their  arrival  at  Pala. 

Another  of  the  illustrations  shows  a  saucer-shaped 
bowl,  seven  inches  across  the  bottom  and  fourteen  and 
a  half  inches  high.  The  bottom  is  a  star,  wrought  in 
shaded  brown  splints,  and  on  the  sides  are  four  figures, 
two  of  which  are  donkeys  or  burros  eating  out  of  a 
trough.  The  body  color  of  the  sides  is  brown  and  the 
designs  are  in  white.  The  effect,  therefore,  is  most 
striking.  The  body  of  the  burro  is  in  white;  also  the 
trough,  but  the  eyes,  mouth,  muzzle,  the  packs  on 
the  burro's  back,  the  dividing  lines  between  the 
legs,  body  and  tail,  the  shadows  in  the  troughs,  etc., 
are  all  in  brown.  Under  the  body  of  the  burro  is  a 
rooster. 

This  design  affords  a  good  deal  of  food  for  thought 
and  reveals  far  more  than,  at  first  sight,  one  would 
imagine.  For  when  did  any  one  ever  see  an  Indian 
burro  feeding  at  a  trough?  Never.  And  yet  this 
weaver  intended  this  for  her  own  burro.  What  then 
does  it  mean?  You  ask  the  weaver,  and  she  averts 
her  eyes,  perhaps,  or  laughs,  or  gives  a  nervous  little 
giggle,  and  says  nothing,  or  deliberately  lies  to  you. 
But  Mrs.  Babbitt  had  gained  her  confidence.  To  her, 
with  a  sigh  of  longing  she  said :  "  Some  day,  maybe  so, 
I  not  be  poor  all  the  time,  as  I  am  now.  Maybe  so  I 


222   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

sell  'em  lots  baskets,  I  feed  'em  my  burro  in  a  trough 
all  same  rich  white  man." 

Ah!  think  of  that!  Longing,  desire,  prayer,  all  woven 
into  that  singular  design  of  an  Indian  burro  eating  out 
of  a  trough,  "  all  same  rich  white  man's  burro." 

The  weaver  is  a  poor  old  woman,  named  Margarita, 
who  lives  near  Murietta,  and  who  has  so  many  hungry 
children  to  feed  that  it  is  one  of  her  dreams  that  some 
day  she  will  be  able  to  feed  her  burro  in  a  trough. 
Pierpont  Morgan  and  Rockefeller  are  not  the  only  per 
sons  in  the  world  who  crave  more  wealth. 

I  do  not  need  to  urge  upon  my  readers  to  look 
carefully  at  the  illustration  of  the  celebrated  rattle 
snake  basket  of  Mrs.  Babbitt's  collection.  It  was 
made  by  Maria  Antonia,  originally  a  La  Jolla  Indian, 
and  later  living  at  Mesa  Grande,  and  is  a  most 
beautiful  specimen  of  the  weaver's  art.  This  poor 
weaver  had  a  most  unfortunate  history.  Well  might 
she  serve  as  an  illustration  of  the  fact  that  mis 
fortune  seems  to  follow  some  people  all  their  lives. 
She  was  married  to  an  Indian,  who  suddenly,  without 
any  apparent  cause,  went  away  and  left  her.  As  time 
elapsed  and  her  husband  did  not  return,  she  assumed 
marital  relations  with  a  man  named  Balenzuella,  who 
was  living  alone.  Two  years  ago  he  died,  leaving  a 
team  of  horses,  wagon,  a  fair  house  with  plenty  of 
furniture  and  some  money.  As  soon  as  he  died  his 
wife,  who  had  abandoned  him,  appeared  in  court  at 
San  Diego  and  claimed  all  his  property.  The  court 
awarded  it  to  her,  although  it  was  clear  that  Antonia 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  223 

had  earned  much  of  it,  for  she  was  a  tireless  worker. 
Thus  she  was  cast  adrift  again  and  had  to  begin  life 
afresh. 

The  basket  is  bowl-shaped  and  is  three  and  one  half 
inches  high  and  about  four  and  one  half  inches  across 
the  bottom.  The  top  is  six  and  one  half  inches  across, 
and  the  circumference  in  the  widest  part,  which  is 
about  an  inch  and  a  half  from  the  top,  is  twenty-two 
and  one  half  inches.  The  shape,  colors,  design  and 
workmanship  combine  to  produce  a  most  pleasing 
result.  The  body  color  is  white,  but  so  important  is 
the  design  that  it  takes  up  all  but  eleven  coils,  and  its 
color  is  the  brown  of  the  tule  root.  Beginning  in  the 
fourth  coil  from  the  center  is  the  rattle  of  the  snake. 
Two  stitches  of  white  follow  two  stitches  of  brown,  and 
thus  the  three  small  rattles  are  made.  Then  eight 
brown  stitches  connect  with  other  brown  stitches  on 
the  two  rows  below  in  such  a  way  as  to  suggest  another 
and  larger  rattle.  The  rattles  are  thus  enlarged  until 
there  are  four  more,  making  eight  in  all.  The  real  coil 
of  the  snake's  body  then  begins,  in  six  rows  of  brown 
weaving  with  diamonds  picked  out  in  white.  As  these 
six  coils  of  brown  come  to  the  point  of  their  commence 
ment,  they  are  ingeniously  diverted  upward,  and  three 
coils  of  white  introduced.  The  six  brown  coils  now 
become  nine,  denoting  the  thickening  of  the  body  of  the 
snake.  When  these  nine  coils  are  complete  a  new 
diversion  upward  is  made,  diminishing  the  thickness 
of  the  snake's  body  to  seven  coils,  and  this  continues 
around  until  the  head  is  reached,  which  is  clearly 


224       THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

depicted  in  the  illustration.  Two  eyes  are  placed  in 
perspective,  and  the  general  effect  is  most  striking  and 
unique.  This  is  an  original  and  interesting  basket 
and  one  that  may  well  be  desired  in  any  collection. 
L-ooked  at  either  outside  or  inside  the  snake  is  very 
realistic,  but  more  so  on  the  inside.  It  thus  seems  to 
be  coiled  up  most  naturally,  the  head  resting  on  the 
body,  with  the  rattles  in  the  center. 

The  snake  design  is  placed  in  the  basket  as  a  propi 
tiation  of  the  powers  of  good  and  evil  behind  the  living 
snake,  in  order  that  those  which  are  good  may  remain 
so,  and  those  which  are  bad  and  vicious  may  be  re 
strained  from  striking  or  wounding  any  members  of  the 
weaver's  family.  Thus  this  basket  becomes  the  en- 
shrinement  of  a  prayer. 

To  my  mind  the  star  basket  is  one  of  the  most 
pleasing  of  the  Babbitt  collection.  The  body  is  white, 
the  design  is  brown.  It  is  "  milk-pan  "  shaped,  eleven 
inches  on  the  bottom,  three  quarters  of  an  inch  high,  and 
nearly  thirteen  inches  across  the  top,  so  that  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  sides  are  almost  perpendicular.  The 
flaring  is  immediately  near  the  bottom. 

The  center  is  a  nine-pointed  star,  which  is  the  motif 
of  the  whole  design,  the  star  enlarging  in  four  successive 
series  of  rays.  It  is  perfect  in  shape,  harmonious  and 
complete,  the  nine  clusters  of  tiny  stars  on  the  upper 
part  of  the  sides  giving  a  finished  appearance  to  the 
design  that  is  pleasing  and  agreeable.  The  border  coil 
stitch  is  in  brown.  The  design  continues  from  the 
bottom  up  the  sides  without  change  or  interruption. 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  225 

Its  weaver  is  Ramona  Balenzuella,  a  pure-blooded  In 
dian,  who  lives  at  Mesa  Grande.  She  is  the  best 
weaver  in  that  village  on  the  mountain  overlooking 
Warner's  Ranch. 

Another  basket  is  an  interesting  specimen.  It  is  a 
fair-sized  bowl-shaped  basket,  nearly  eight  inches  high, 
five  inches  across  the  bottom  and  thirteen  inches  across 
the  top.  The  body  is  white  and  the  design  is  picked 
out  in  color.  The  interior  "  square  heart  "  is  in  brown 
and  the  two  enclosing  squares  are  in  grayish  black  at 
the  top,  shaded  down  to  a  lavender  gray  at  the  bottom. 
The  effect  is  very  delicate  and  most  peculiar;  indeed, 
I  have  never  seen  anything  like  it  elsewhere.  The 
lower  third  of  the  bowl  is  marked  with  designs  in 
variegated  brown,  with  the  bottom  line  in  black  and 
shaded  with  the  lavender  gray.  The  maker  was 
Ramona  Cibimooat,  who,  with  her  sister,  is  one  of  the 
most  intelligent  basket-makers  of  the  tribe.  The 
lavender  tint  of  splint  is  found  in  few  places,  and  these 
are  unknown  to  any  others  than  Ramona  and  her 
sister.  Hence  their  baskets  are  highly  prized  when 
these  colors  and  tints  are  introduced.  Possibly  the 
color  is  caused  by  some  chemical  element  in  the  water 
which  dyes  the  tule  stem  while  growing. 

This  "  square  heart  "  design  is  commonly  known 
among  the  Indians  as  the  "  Bachelor's  Walk."  It  has 
a  symbolism  that  is  very  clear  to  the  Indian  and  yet  it 
must  be  carefully  expressed  to  avoid  misapprehension 
in  the  civilized  mind.  The  inner  part  represents  a 
maiden's  heart.  The  young  man  who  remains  a 


226   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

bachelor  may  walk  around  and  around  (as  represented 
by  the  outer  square)  the  object  of  his  most  ardent 
affections,  but  he  will  ever  be  kept  at  a  distance.  He 
may  woo  her  most  urgently  and  come  nearer  and  thus 
encircle  her  (as  represented  in  the  inner  square),  but 
he  is  just  as  far  as  ever  from  entering  the  maiden's 
heart,  the  holy  of  holies,  if  he  still  remains  a  bachelor. 
It  is  only  when  he  and  she  unite  in  the  sweet  and  holy 
communion  of  heart,  mind  and  body  in  the  dear  and 
blessed  relationship  of  true  marriage  that  the  man  can 
enter  into  and  know  the  inner  heart  of  the  maiden,  who 
has  given  up  her  maidenhood  to  become  his  devoted 
and  true  wife. 

Some  imagine  that  this  design  and  thought  apply 
solely  to  the  physical  relationship,  but  this  is  not  so. 
While  this  relationship  is  well  understood,  and  by  the 
Indian  (to  her  friends)  spoken  of  with  a  "dignified 
freedom  that  few  white  people  understand,  he  who  con 
ceives  it  rests  upon  that  relationship  alone  reveals  his 
ignorance  of  the  exalted  nature  of  the  true  Indian's 
thought.  It  applies  to  the  higher,  the  spiritual  com 
munion  of  souls,  and,  of  course,  the  higher  includes  the 
lower. 

Another  illustration  is  of  a  basket  made  by  Maria 
Antonia.  It  is  four  and  a  half  inches  high,  seven  inches 
across  the  top,  and  twenty-five  inches  in  circumference 
in  its  widest  part.  The  design  is  a  star.  There  are 
six  points  picked  out  in  brown,  with  a  white  back 
ground.  The  enlarging  rays  are  also  in  brown,  fol 
lowed  by  another  set  of  rays.  The  whole  upper  part 


INDIAN  BASKET  WEAVING  227 

of  the  basket  is  finished  in  brown,  thus  producing  a 
charming  effect.  This  is  a  good  illustration  of  a  basket 
where  the  color  of  the  design  is  the  predominant  color, 
without  destroying  the  effect,  indeed,  materially  en 
hancing  it. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  in  my  own  historical 
collection  of  Indian  baskets  is  here  pictured  in  the 
hands  of  its  weaver.  When  I  first  saw  this  basket  the 
old  lady  was  busily  engaged  in  its  manufacture.  As 
I  chatted  with  her  she  told  me  that  the  design  she  was 
weaving  into  it  was  of  the  flying  bat. 

"  Why  do  you  put  the  flying  bat  into  your  basket?  " 
The  answer  came  with  a  child -like  confidence  and 
simplicity  that  were  intensely  interesting  and  pathetic. 
"  For  a  long  time  when  I  have  gone  to  my  bed  to  sleep, 
the  flying  bats  have  come  through  that  hole  " —  point 
ing  to  a  small  hole  at  the  junction  of  the  wall  and 
roof —  "  and  sucked  away  my  breath.  You  see  I  can 
not  breathe  very  well,  for  they  have  taken  away  nearly 
all  the  breath  I  have."  (The  poor  old  creature  was 
suffering  from  asthma  —  a  very  rare  complaint  with 
them.)  "  So  I  am  going  to  pray  to  Those  Above  to 
keep  the  bats  away  from  me.  I  am  making  the  bas 
ket  to  take  the  sacred  meal  to  the  shrine  "  (mentioning 
a  place  where  the  old  Cahuilla  Indians  go  to  pray  as  in 
the  old  days  before  priests  and  missionaries  were 
known),  "  and  I  am  putting  the  bats  in  the  basket  so 
that  Those  Above  will  know  what  I  am  praying  about. 
I  shall  sprinkle  the  sacred  meal  and  then  pray 
earnestly  that  the  bats  be  kept  away  so  that  when  I  lie 


228   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

down  to  sleep  my  breath  be  no  longer  taken  away 
from  me." 

Impulsively  I  placed  my  hand  on  her  shoulder  and 
exclaimed:  "  And  when  you  pray,  will  you  remember 
that  your  white  brother  will  pray  with  you." 

I  took  good  care,  however,  before  leaving,  to  close  up 
the  aperture  through  which  the  bats  entered  her  hut 
to  disturb  her.  It  was  nearly  a  year  before  I  re 
turned  to  Cahuilla,  but  one  of  the  first  visitors  to  my 
wagon  was  this  old  woman.  She  took  my  face  be 
tween  her  hands  and  kissed  me  on  each  cheek,  and 
shook  my  hands  with  cordial  earnestness,  while  tears 
streamed  down  her  cheeks.  Almost  her  first  words 
were:"  You*  see  I  now  have  my  breath.  Those  Above 
heard  our  prayers." 

Her  gladness  almost  touched  me  to  tears  and  they 
actually  did  flow  when  I  realized  the  significance  of 
the  plural  pronoun  she  had  used:  "  Our  prayers." 
Here,  indeed,  was  the  recognition  of  the  brotherhood 
of  man  and  the  fatherhood  of  God.  Then  she  con 
tinued:  "  I  told  you  if  our  prayers  were  answered  I 
would  keep  the  basket  for  you,  and  it  is  there  on  my 
wall  waiting  for  you  to  come  and  fetch  it." 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  I  regard  such  baskets 
as  these  as  priceless;  that  money  cannot  buy  them? 
For  they  are  not  only  pretty  pieces  of  basket-work, 
color,  design,  weave,  shape,  fine  specimens  of  aboriginal 
digital  skill,  but  there  are  enshrined  in  them  the  prayers, 
the  longings,  the  hopes  and  the  satisfactions  of  pure 
and  simple  hearts. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

INDIAN    EVICTIONS    IN    RAMONA'S   COUNTRY 

'  I  AHE  stories  of  the  evictions  of  the  Indians  in  Ramona 
•*•  are  statements  of  absolute  fact,  save  that,  for  dra 
matic  purposes,  the  order  of  occurrence  is  not  adhered  to. 
Alessandro  is  made  to  appear,  and  to  be,  different  from 
other  Indians  because  of  his  training  by  Pablo,  his 
father,  who  was  a  Head  Chief,  or  General,  of  his  tribe. 
We  are  told  (Chapter  V)  that  "  one  purpose  and  one 
fear  rilled  his  future,  —  the  purpose,  to  be  his  father's 
worthy  successor,  for  Pablo  was  old  now,  and  very 
feeble;  the  fear,  that  exile  and  ruin  were  in  store  for 
them  all."  The  white  man  had  clearly  shown  his  pur 
pose.  While  there  was  land  in  plenty  for  everybody 
the  Indian  was  not  disturbed  in  his  possessory  rights, 
but  as  soon  as  gold -mining  failed  and  agriculture  and 
fruit-culture  were  engaged  in,  land,  with  water,  was 
found  to  be  valuable ;  and  with  such  a  consideration  in 
view,  what  were  the  rights  of  the  Indians?  When 
California  became  one  of  the  sisterhood  of  states  and 
made  its  own  laws,  it  knew  full  well  that  it  had  to  deal 
with  the  Indians  within  its  borders.  The  legislature 
passed  a  law  to  the  effect  that  they  were  to  be  protected 
in  their  inherent  rights  of  possession,  provided  within  a 


23o   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

certain  time  they  registered  and  made  claim  to  the  land 
they  occupied.  Such  a  law,  on  the  face  of  it,  to  unthink 
ing  people,  seems  to  be  just  and  right,  but  to  have 
made  it  an  equitable  law  in  its  operation  the  most 
ample  provision  should  have  been  made  of  honest, 
capable,  humane  agents,  appointed  to  safeguard  the 
Indians  in  their  rights.  For  what  could  Indians,  who 
knew  nothing  of  our  language,  our  habits,  our  system, 
know  of  our  law?  How  could  they  know  that  they 
had  to  do  something  in  order  to  preserve  to  themselves 
the  land  that  had  always  been  theirs? 

They  could  not  know,  and  they  did  not  know,  hence 
many  of  them  failed  to  register  their  lands.  The 
result  was  they  were  trespassers,  or,  at  best,  squatters 
upon  public  lands.  And  when  public  lands  are  sur 
veyed,  the  first  person  who  files  on  them  in  the  land  office 
stands  the  best  chance  of  having  a  patent  —  or  govern 
ment  deed  —  given  to  him.  But  in  the  case  of  the 
Indians  they  did  not  know  enough  of  our  land  system 
to  understand  surveying,  filing  or  getting  a  patent. 
They  were  as  helpless  as  children.  Some  of  them  were 
anxious  when  they  saw  the  white  race  crowding  in 
upon  them,  and  in  their  simple  way  tried  to  negotiate 
for  fair  treatment.  Those  who  made  treaties,  or 
relied  upon  the  solemn  pledges  of  United  States  army 
officers  or  other  officials,  soon  found  the  pledges  were 
as  easily  broken  as  made. 

When,  driven  from  pillar  to  post,  and  back  again, — 
but  never  back  to  good  and  fertile  lands, —  they  set 
tled  on  waste  land,  and,  with  an  almost  hopeless  despair 


INDIAN    EVICTIONS  231 

that  is  pathetic  in  the  extreme,  desperately  sought  to 
wrest  a  living  from  it  for  their  families,  it  was  no 
uncommon  thing  for  a  white  man  to  come  along,  dis 
cover  that  the  land  was  public  land,  go  to  the  Land 
Office  and  there  file  upon  it,  driving  off  the  Indian, 
often  by  force,  paying  him  nothing  for  his  improve 
ments  or  growing  crops;  and  then  call  upon  the  United 
States  officials  to  protect  him  in  his  "  rights  "  if  the 
Indian  withstood  his  actions,  or  demanded  juster 
treatment. 

After  Mrs.  Jackson's  stirring  appeals  had  aroused 
the  whole  country  to  the  need  of  honester  relationships 
between  these  Indians  and  ourselves,  and  public  opinion 
demanded  that  reservations  be  set  aside  for  them,  cor 
rupt  politicians  and  others  saw  to  it  that  land  was  set 
apart  that  was  absolutely  useless  to  any  one  in  its 
present  condition,  and  if,  by  chance,  a  bit  of  good 
land  or  a  spring  were  included  in  the  boundaries,  they 
petitioned  for  a  new  survey  and  invariably  managed 
to  leave  the  Indians  all  that  was  worthless  and  them 
selves  or  their  friends  the  "  pickings." 

Lest  it  be  thought  I  exaggerate,  let  me  here  quote 
from  a  report,  made  March  21,  1906,  by  C.  £.  Kelsey, 
special  agent  for  the  California  Indians,  in  regard  to  one 
reservation, —  that  of  Campo. 

"  There  are  five  reservations  usually  known  as  the 
Campo  reservation,  as  follows:  Campo  proper,  area 
two  hundred  and  forty  acres,  population  twenty-five, 
elevation  about  two  thousand  five  hundred  feet; 
Manzanita,  area  six  hundred  and  forty  acres,  population 


232   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

fifty-nine,  elevation  three  thousand  feet;  La  Posta, 
area  two  hundred  and  thirty-nine  acres,  population 
nineteen,  elevation  about  three  thousand  two  hundred 
feet;  Cuyapipe,  area  eight  hundred  and  eighty  acres, 
population  forty-four,  elevation  about  three  thousand 
eight  hundred  feet;  and  Laguna,area  three  hundred  and 
twenty  acres,  population,  five;  elevation  about  four 
thousand  five  hundred  feet.  The  areas  given  are  their 
areas  on  paper  "  (the  italics  are  mine).  "  Most  of  the 
land  is  of  the  most  barren  description.  The  actual  area 
of  arable  lands  is  as  follows:  Campo  forty  acres, 
Manzanita  thirty-five  acres,  La  Posta  thirty  acres, 
Cuyapipe  thirty  acres,  Laguna  seventy  acres — (a  total 
of  two  hundred  and  five  acres,  to  one  hundred  and 
fifty-two  people).  The  rainfall  is  scanty,  and  grain 
and  hay  are  about  the  only  crops  that  can  be  raised 
without  irrigation.  There  is  no  water  for  irrigation 
on  any  of  the  reservations,  and  barely  enough  water  for 
household  use.  The  entire  five  reservations  would  not 
support  more  than  one  or  two  white  families,  and  yet 
forty  Indian  families  are  expected  to  make  their  living 
there:' 

Can  any  honest  person  read  such  a  report  —  and  I 
can  personally  vouch  for  its  literal  truth  —  and  not 
feel  humiliated  and  ashamed?  If  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  a  nation's  caring  about  a  blot  upon  its  escut 
cheon,  certainly  the  whole  United  States  ought  to  care 
enough  to  be  deeply  shamed  at  its  wicked  treatment 
of  these  peaceful  and  helpless  Indians.  They  were 
the  wards  of  the  State  and  the  Nation.  Both  have 


Ruins  of  the  Indians'  Church  at  San  Pasquale 

Page  233 


Indians  at  Agua  Caliente  spinning  yucca  fibre  to  make  door-mats,  etc. 

Page  236 


The  Hot  Springs  on  Warner's  Ranch,  San  Diego  County,  California 

Page  236 


,-'^*:' 


The  village  of  Palatingiva,  Warne  's  Ranch,  from  which  the  Indinns 
were  evicted 

Page  23(i 


INDIAN   EVICTIONS  233 

been  remiss  in  the  discharge  of  a  manifest  duty,  im 
posed  by  honor,  let  alone  humanity,  and  both  have 
miserably  failed,  notably  the  State.  For,  in  the  mak 
ing  of  laws  pertaining  to  the  lands  occupied  by  the 
Indians,  the  State  should  have  so  guarded  them  that 
by  no  lapse,  no  failure  on  the  part  of  the  Indians,  no 
ignorance,  no  shrewdness,  no  double-dealing  on  the 
part  of  the  whites,  could  their  inheritance  have  been 
stolen  from  them. 

Now,  it  is  the  desire  of  the  Department  as  far  as 
possible  and  practicable  to  find  good  land  for  each 
family,  and  to  allot  it  in  severalty,  and  thus  do  away 
with  the  reservation  system.  That  will  be  an  advance, 
as  there  can  be  nothing  much  worse  than  the  reserva 
tion  system. 

The  evictions  that  Mrs.  Jackson  described,  of  San 
Pasquale  and  Temecula,  were  made  by  duly  authorized 
officers  of  the  law,  after  due  processes  in  court  before 
competent  white  judges,  and  were  therefore  legal  and 
presumably  just.  They  are  a  forceful  evidence  that 
things  are  possible  under  our  legal  system  that  are  mani-- 
festly  unjust  and  dishonest.  The  law  permits  things 
and  protects  men  in  the  doing  of  things  that  are  dis 
honorable  and  soul-searing.  When  men  themselves 
become  honest  they  will  destroy  so  dishonest  a  system. 
Equity,  truth,  honor  are  of  greater  importance  than 
mere  legality,  and  our  legality  has  worked  great  woes 
upon  an  ignorant  and  childlike  race  that  it  was  our 
duty  to  protect. 

The  Warner's  Ranch  eviction  is  one  that  would  have 


234   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

come  under  Mrs.  Jackson's  caustic  criticisms  had  she 
been  alive  when  it  occurred.  Everything  was  done 
legally,  and  after  being  legally  defrauded  in  the  state 
courts,  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  rendered  a  de 
cision  that  this  was  a  domestic  or  state  matter  and  its 
policy  was  not  to  interfere.  Hence  the  Indians  must  go. 
When  these  facts  were  succinctly  stated  to  the 
country  at  large,  public  opinion  in  California  and  else 
where  was  so  aroused  (mainly  through  the  educa 
tive  campaign  of  the  Sequoya  League  and  its  energetic 
chairman,  Charles  F.  Lummis),  that  an  appropriation 
of  $ioo,OOO  was  made  by  the  government  to  provide 
a  new  home  for  the  unjustly  (though  legally)  evicted 
Indians.  Pala  was  chosen  as  the  new  location  after 
months  of  careful,  expert  and  painstaking  investigation 
of  every  available  spot.  When  the  time  came  they 
were  peacefully  and  humanely  removed  to  Pala.  But 
no  provision  had  been  made  for  permanent  homes. 
Temporarily  they  were  established  in  tents.  Now  let 
me  quote  from  Mr.  Kelsey's  report:  "The  matter 
of  houses  for  the  Indians  who  removed  from  Warner's 
Ranch  to  Pala  was  a  vexed  question  of  the  times 
immediately  after  the  removal.  The  suggestion  was 
made  that  the  Indians  be  at  once  set  to  work  building 
adobe  houses.  This  particular  band  had  been  making 
adobe,  building  adobe  houses,  and  living  in  adobe 
houses  for  more  than  one  hundred  years,  and  the 
adobe  house  was  the  one  kind  of  house  they  knew  all 
about.  Adobe  as  a  building  material  has  some  defects, 
but  it  also  has  some  excellent  qualities.  It  is  suited 


INDIAN    EVICTIONS  235 

to  the  climate,  being  warm  in  winter  and  cool  in  sum 
mer.  It  is  wind-proof,  dust-proof,  and  even  when  the 
roof  was  of  thatch,  the  Indian  houses  were  usually 
water-proof.  But  for  some  reason  the  adobe  idea  did 
not  meet  with  favor.  It  was  said  to  take  too  much 
time.  This  objection  was  also  made  against  the  pro 
ject  of  buying  rough  lumber  for  the  Indians  to  build 
into  houses,  and  things  were  rather  at  a  standstill 
until  the  brilliant  idea  was  evolved  of  getting  tem 
porary  houses  for  the  Indians  to  live  in  permanently. 
The  Indians  were  inclined  to  be  mutinous  and  openly 
threatened  to  return  to  Warner's  Ranch.  There 
was  evidently  need  for  haste,  so  fifty  portable  houses 
were  ordered  by  telegraph, —  from  New  York.  The 
order  seems  to  have  been  filled  in  due  course  of  business, 
and  the  delay  in  coming  by  freight,  more  than  four 
thousand  miles,  was  no  greater  than  usual  with  trans 
continental  freight,  but  as  a  time-saving  device,  it 
was  hardly  a  success.  It  was  nearly  six  months  before 
the  Indians  got  into  the  houses.  The  expense  was  double 
what  wooden  cabins  built  on  the  spot  would  have  been, 
and  about  four  times  the  cost  of  adobes.  There  would  be 
less  room  to  cavil  at  this  purchase,  if  the  houses  were 
fairly  adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  were 
bought.  The  houses  are  well  enough  constructed  for 
the  purpose  for  which  they  are  advertised  and  sold, 
that  is  for  a  temporary  house,  or  wooden  tent.  As  a 
permanent  dwelling  place  for  human  beings  they  are 
far  from  satisfactory.  Being  composed  of  but  a  single 
thickness  of  board  three-quarters  of  an  inch  thick, 


236   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

they  are  hot  in  summer  and  cold  in  winter.  The  Cali 
fornia  sun  has  sprung  the  narrow  strips  composing  the 
panels,  and  made  cracks  in  about  every  panel.  The 
sun  has  also  warped  the  roof  panels,  and  injured  the 
tarred  paper  which  constitutes  the  rain-shedding  part. 
The  houses  are  neither  dust-proof,  wind-proof,  nor 
water-proof,  and  are  far  inferior  to  the  despised  adobes." 
Is  comment  necessary  upon  this  cool  and  judicial 
statement  of  facts?  The  next  item  is  in  regard  to  the 
expenditure  for  an  irrigating  ditch.  It  cost  nearly 
eighteen  thousand  dollars,  or  about  forty-five  dollars 
per  acre  for  the  four  hundred  acres  of  irrigable  land 
which  is  all  that  the  ditch  can  possibly  be  made  to  serve. 
Its  capacity  is  given  as  1,700  inches  of  water.  The 
largest  duty  imposed  upon  water  is  to  irrigate  one  to 
six  —  one  inch  of  water  to  six  acres  of  land,  or,  a  more 
conservative  demand,  one  to  four.  At  the  lower 
estimate  one  hundred  inches  of  water  would  supply 
all  the  needs  of  the  four  hundred  acres.  Then  why 
spend  eighteen  thousand  dollars  in  building  a  ditch 
to  bring  in  1,7°°  inches? 

Under  the  humane  supervision  of  Mr.  C.  E.  Shell, 
the  Indian  agent  at  Pala,  the  younger  Indians  are 
settling  down  to  their  new  life.  The  older  Indians, 
naturally,  will  never  cease  to  regret  their  loved  Agua 
Caliente  —  Palatingiva  —  the  Hot  Water  Springs  of 
Warner's  Ranch.  We  can  only  hope  that  this  will 
be  the  last  Indian  eviction  in  California  and  that  truth 
and  justice,  rather  than  law,  will  be  meted  out  to  our 
helpless  wards  in  the  future. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

MOUNT   SAN   JACINTO    AND   ITS   LEGENDS 

]\  /FOUNT  San  Jacinto  is  made  forever  memorable 
*  *  *  owing  to  its  connection  with  the  story  of  Ramona. 
It  is  one  of  the  notable  mountains  of  Southern  Cali 
fornia,  to  the  description  of  which  I  have  given  con 
siderable  space  in  "  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado 
Desert."*  On  a  clear  day  its  bold  nature-battle- 
mented  summit  is  distinctly  to  be  seen  from  the  hills 
of  Los  Angeles  and  Pasadena,  eighty  miles  away.  It 
is  ten  thousand  eight  hundred  and  five  feet  in  height 
and  in  some  respects  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
mountains  in  the  world,  for  on  one  side  it  looks  over 
that  great  Sahara  of  California,  the  Colorado  Desert, 
portions  of  which,  under  the  power  of  man's  industry 
and  the  use  of  the  water  which  has  flowed,  in  hidden 
rivers,  from  its  own  sides  to  make  a  thousand  arte 
sian  wells,  is  now  blossoming  as  the  rose,  while  on  the 
other  it  sees  the  fair  land  of  Southern  California,  where 
bloom  the  orange,  lemon,  guava,  almond,  peach  and 
a  thousand  and  one  fruits,  with  a  million  exquisite 
flowers  of  every  hue,  tint,  color  and  shade,  and  where 

*  The  Wonders  of  the  Colorado  Desert,  2  vols.,   published  by  Little, 
Brown  &  Co.,  Boston. 


THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 


millions  of  healthy  people  are  destined  to  make  happy 
and  peaceful  homes. 

On  the  north  it  gazes  down  from  its  ten  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  five  feet  of  elevation  to  the  San 
Gorgonio  pass,  through  which  the  trains  of  the  Southern 
Pacific  enter  the  Colorado  Desert.  The  lowest  eleva 
tion  of  the  pass  is  two  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
eight  feet.  A  drop  of  eight  thousand  feet  in  what 
appears  to  be  little  more  than  a  stone's  throw  is  a 
wonderful  sight  to  gaze  upon,  and  it  is  made  so  com 
paratively  easy  to  see  that  I  wonder  that  more  nature 
lovers  do  not  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to 
enjoy  it.  One  may  go  on  the  Santa  Fe  train  to  Hemet, 
take  the  stage  there  for  Strawberry  Valley,  where  a 
comfortable  and  well-conducted  hotel  houses  travelers 
and  visitors,  and  then,  securing  horses  and  guide  at 
the  livery  stable,  the  ascent  is  easily  made  in  a  day, 
camping  in  one  of  the  high  valleys  over  night  and 
returning  to  the  hotel  the  following  day.  In  1906  I 
made  the  ascent  in  order  to  gaze  on  the  Salton  Sea 
from  the  summit,  that  wonderful  sea  made  by  the 
diversion  of  the  Colorado  River  from  its  native  channel 
to  the  Gulf  of  California.  To  me,  as  to  others,  it  was 
a  remarkable  sight  and  seemed  altogether  incongruous 
with  all  our  previous  desert  experiences,  and  yet, 
within  a  comparatively  recent  period,  this  was  the 
normal  condition  of  affairs.  The  Colorado  River 
used  to  empty  naturally  into  this  great  desert  basin, 
which  was  then  a  part  of  the  Gulf  of  California,  and  the 
very  foot  of  the  mountain  upon  which  we  then  stood 


The  author  and  friends  on  the  way  to  the  summit  of  Mt.  San  Jacinto 

Page  238 


Camping  below  Lily  Peak  in  the  San  Jacinto  ^fountains 

Page  239 


Don  Antonio  Coronel  and  his  wife,  at  their  home  in  Los  Angeles 
From  a  painting  by  A.  F.  fJarmer 

Page  309 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS       239 

used  to  be  laved  by  the  salt  waters  of  this  arm  of  the 
Pacific. 

Perhaps  no  mountain  in  California  has  been  written 
about  so  much  and  from  so  many  different  stand 
points.  The  student  of  earthquakes  has  made  it  his 
theme  again  and  again;  the  climatologist  affirms  that 
it  is  one  great  secret  of  the  wonderful  Southland 
climate;  the  physiographer  denotes  it  the  steepest 
mountain,  on  its  desert  side,  in  the  world ;  the  novelist 
makes  it  the  scene  of  her  most  thrilling  plots;  the  gov 
ernment  sets  its  forests  apart  as  a  reserve  and  appoints 
guardians  to  watch  for  their  protection ;  the  ethnologist 
wonders  at  the  linguistic  variety  of  the  Indians  found 
around  its  base  and  in  its  canyons  and  valleys;  the 
geologist  brings  his  students  to  observe  the  character- 
Lac  phenomena  it  presents;  the  lawyers  and  judges 
have  fought  and  are  fighting  for  the  pickings  of  its 
Indians'  lands;  the  humanitarian  finds  exercise  for 
his  deepest  sympathies  and  profoundest  emotions; 
and  the  physician  and  invalid  look  on  it  as  a  health- 
giving  mecca  in  whose  precincts  it  is  life  to  reside. 

But  it  is  chiefly  in  its  relationship  to  the  story  of 
Ramona  that  this  chapter  must  deal,  together  with  the 
legends  told  of  it  by  the  Indians  of  Ramona's  country. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  when  Ramona  and  Alessan- 
dro  were  going  up  to  the  secluded  valley  he  had  found 
they  first  saw  Mt.  San  Jacinto:  "  It  was  in  the  early 
afternoon  that  they  entered  the  broad  valley  of  San 
Jacinto.  They  entered  it  from  the  west.  As  they 
came  in,  though  the  sky  over  their  heads  was  overcast 


24o   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

and  gray,  the  eastern  and  northeastern  part  of  the 
valley  was  flooded  with  a  strange  light,  at  once  ruddy 
and  golden.  It  was  a  glorious  sight.  The  jagged 
tops  and  spurs  of  San  Jacinto  mountain  shone  like  the 
turrets  and  posterns  of  a  citadel  built  of  rubies.  The 
glow  seemed  preternatural." 

I  have  seen  it  again  and  again  when  it  was  thus 
flooded  with  crimson  and  gold  in  every  conceivable 
shade.  For,  while  we  consider  that  "  crimson  is 
crimson,"  and  nothing  but  crimson,  Nature  has  a  way 
of  dealing  with  colors  so  that  crimson  is  made  to  take 
on  the  peculiar  suggestion  of  tints  of  the  surrounding 
mountains  and  heavens.  Few  mountains  in  the  world 
can  boast  of  such  color  effects  as  Mt.  San  Jacinto, 
and  the  reason  for  this  is  found  in  its  unique  location 
already  described. 

The  Indians  of  the  region  invest  it  with  strange 
powers,  and  in  its  most  secret  recesses  dwells  Tauquitch, 
the  evil  being  of  whom  I  am  about  to  write.  Certain 
noises  are  heard  at  times  on  the  mountain,  and  the 
superstitious  Indians  regard  these  as  the  groanings  of 
the  victims  of  Tauquitch,  or  the  wild  roars  of  anger  of 
the  god  as  he  seeks  to  frighten  the  poor  wretches  he 
has  inveigled  into  his  lair.  Mrs.  Jackson,  in  Ramona, 
thus  refers  to  the  heights  of  San  Jacinto,  and  the  noises, 
and  Alessandro's  feelings:  "Safe  at  last!  Oh,  yes, 
very  safe;  not  only  against  whites,  who,  because  the 
little  valley  was  so  small  and  bare,  would  not  desire  it, 
but  against  Indians  also.  For  the  Indians,  silly  things, 
had  a  terror  of  the  upper  heights  of  San  Jacinto;  they 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      241 

believed  the  devil  lived  there,  and  money  would  not 
hire  one  of  the  Saboba  Indians  to  go  so  high  as  this 
valley  which  Alessandro  had  discovered.  Fiercely  he 
gloated  over  each  one  of  these  figures  of  safety  in  their 
hiding-place." 

The  noises  are  explained  in  one  of  their  legends  as 
follows : 

"Long  ago  all  the  clans  of  the  San  Jacinto  valley 
were  united  under  one  chief,  named  Tauquitch.  He  was 
a  tall,  handsome  man,  keen  and  bold;  so  that  he  gained 
ascendency. 

"But  as  years  went  by, Tauquitch  became  very  arbi 
trary.  The  people  grew  dissatisfied  and  began  to  dis 
like  him.  Yet  they  feared  his  strength  and  cunning, 
and  knew  not  how  to  cast  him  off.  At  last  a  beautiful 
girl,  daughter  of  the  chief  of  one  of  the  tribes,  dis 
appeared,  and  no  trace  of  her  could  be  found.  Then 
another  maiden  was  lost,  and  while  they  were  still 
seeking  her,  word  came  that  the  daughter  of  another 
chief  was  missing.  Every  woman  in  the  valley  trem 
bled.  The  men  were  enraged;  they  suspected  Tau 
quitch.  They  searched  his  cabin,  and  the  scalps  of  the 
girls  were  found  in  the  pouch  of  the  hated  chief.  He 
was  seized  and  brought  before  a  council  of  the  principal 
men  of  the  clan,  who  condemned  him  to  death  by  fire. 

"The  preparations  were  made,  and  all  the  people 
came  together.  Tauquitch,  grim  and  silent,  with  eyes 
of  fire,  was  bound  to  the  stake  and  the  wood  was  lighted. 
But  look !  as  the  blaze  went  up,  the  form  of  Tauquitch 
suddenly  disappeared,  and  a  great  spark  .of  fire  flew 


242   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

into  the  air,  was  wafted  eastward  toward  the  mountain, 
and  vanished.  Then  all  the  people  knew  that  Tauquitch 
was  a  witch,  who  had  disguised  himself  as  a  man  among 
them  to  work  them  harm. 

"And  ever  since  that  time,  these  strange  sounds  have 
been  heard  from  the  mountain.  It  is  because  Tau 
quitch  has  taken  up  his  abode  there  in  a  cavern ;  ever 
and  anon  he  goes  out  to  catch  a  young  girl  whom  he 
imprisons  there;  and  the  shock  that  we  hear  is  the 
sound  of  the  great  stone  as  Tauquitch  claps  it  upon  the 
mouth  of  his  cave."* 

What  are  the  noises!  Who  can  account  for  them? 
They  exist,  and  there  must  be  some  reasonable  scien 
tific  theory  that  explains  them.  Some  think  that 
there  are  internal  changes  going  on  within  the  bowels 
of  the  mountain,  caused  by  the  more  rapid  radiation 
of  heat  than  is  common  elsewhere.  If  this  be  a  vol 
canic  centre,  though  there  are  no  great  outward  mani 
festations,  internal  changes  undoubtedly  are  occurring 
all  the  time,  and  these  perhaps  take  the  form  of  falling 
masses  of  rock,  which,  echoing  in  the  hollow  vaults 
beneath,  produce  the  alarming  and  terrifying  noises. 

Others  claim  that  there  is  a  vast  limestone  cave  in  the 
heart  of  the  mountain  through  which  passes  chemically 
charged  water  that  decomposes  the  limestone,  and  that 
the  noises  are  caused  by  the  falling  of  walls,  the  sup 
porting  bases  of  which  have  been  thus  decomposed. 

In  some  way  these  noises  have  become  associated 
(in  the  minds  of  the  Indians)  with  Tauquitch.  This 

*Miss  Helen' Coan,  in  Out  West. 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      243 

evil  power  made  his  appearance  soon  after  Uuyot 
brought  the  Saboba  and  kindred  peoples  to  the  Ameri 
can  shores  from  across  the  Great  Western  Water  —  the 
Pacific  Ocean  —  and  took  up  his  abode  on  Mt.  San 
Jacinto.  Here  he  lived  in  a  cave,  and  was  guilty  of 
many  and  great  crimes  against  the  people.  He  had 
the  power  of  assuming  all  kinds  of  disguises,  and  would 
inveigle  men,  women,  and  children  to  his  lair,  where 
he  fell  upon  them,  and  ate  them. 

These  fearful  practices  continued  for  many  years, 
long,  long  after  Uuyot  was  dead,  and  until  a  new  cap 
tain  of  great  power  was  the  leader  of  the  Saboba  peoples. 
His  name  was  Algoot.  He  had  a  well-beloved  son,  a 
young  man  of  fine  presence,  of  frank  and  generous 
nature,  a  leader  among  the  young  men,  and  one  upon 
whom  Those  Above  had  smiled.  He  was  a  favorite 
with  everybody,  and  none  had  a  word  of  unkindness 
to  speak  of  him. 

One  day  this  young  man  and  two  of  his  adventurous 
companions  started  to  climb  up  Mt.  San  Jacinto, 
which,  however,  in  those  days,  and  ever  since,  to  the 
Indians,  has  been  known  only  as  Tauquitch,  the  abode 
of  the  evil  spirit.  They  were  a  brave  and  fearless 
trio,  and  laughed  to  scorn  the  idea  that  Tauquitch 
could  do  them  any  harm.  They  felt  they  were  a 
match  for  Tauquitch,  and  were  proof  against  all  his 
arts  of  witchcraft,  sorcery,  and  impersonation.  With 
shouts  of  laughter  they  scaled  the  rugged  peaks, 
stopping  now  and  again  to  look  down  at  the  quiet  and 
peaceful  villages  below,  where  their  people  were  busily 


244   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

engaged  in  their  regular  vocations.  Algoot  had  not 
been  apprised  of  his  son's  intention  to  climb  the  moun 
tain  and  brave  the  demon  Tauquitch,  and  only  learned 
of  it  accidentally  some  hours  after  the  youths  had 
departed.  At  first  he  felt  no  fear,  but  suddenly  a  deep 
dread  fell  upon  his  soul.  What  it  was  he  feared  he 
could  not  tell.  It  was  as  if  the  shadow  of  some  great 
evil  that  had  happened  or  was  to  happen  had  cast  its 
black  pall  over  his  heart.  Then  fear  for  his  son  arose 
like  a  bodily  presence  before  him.  He  reasoned  with 
himself.  What,  have  fear  for  his  strong,  brave,  and 
manly  son, —  a  fine  athlete,  the  best  runner,  and 
climber,  and  wrestler,  and  boxer,  and  swimmer  of  the 
Land  of  the  Sun-Down  Sea?  It  was  foolish,  weak- 
minded,  womanish.  Still,  all  the  same,  the  fear  grew 
instead  of  diminishing,  and  finally  yielding  to  it,  he 
determined  to  set  forth,  climb  Tauquitch,  and  return 
only  with  his  son. 

His  fear  and  dread  grew  greater  as  he  climbed  higher. 
Soon  came  a  blind,  unreasonable  terror,  which  lent 
him  wings  and  superhuman  strength.  He  fairly  flew 
upward  until  he  reached  a  quiet  little  valley,  a  mile 
or  so  below  where  the  noises  were  heard  that  were  said 
to  emanate  from  Tauquitch's  hidden  cave.  Here, 
stretched  out  as  if  dead  upon  the  greensward,  were 
the  two  companions  of  his  son,  but  Algoot 's  heart  grew 
heavier  and  heavier  as  he  saw  no  signs  of  that  beloved 
form.  What  could  it  mean? 

Administering  restoratives  to  the  young  men,  he 
soon  brought  them  back  to  life,  and  as  they  looked 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      245 

around  in  terror  and  amazement,  Algoot  saw  that 
something  dreadful  had  happened  to  them.  They 
almost  fainted  again  with  dread  when  they  saw  the 
rugged  spires  of  Tauquitch  peak  against  the  clear  af 
ternoon  sky.  They  begged  to  leave  the  accursed 
spot  before  they  told  what  had  happened,  so  Algoot,  in  a 
frenzy  of  fear  and  dread,  hurried  them  along,  until 
he  could  wait  no  longer,  and  then  pressed  them  to  tell 
what  had  become  of  his  son. 

"  Oh,  Algoot,  how  shall  we  tell  you,  and  we  our 
selves  live?  Better  had  it  been  that  Tauquitch  had 
taken  all  three  than  to  have  left  two  of  us  to  tell  you 
the  dreadful  news.  Your  son,  ah,  Algoot,  your  son, 
our  friend  and  companion,  never  shall  we  see  him  again !" 

"  What!  "  exclaimed  Algoot,  in  agony  and  despair, 
"  never  see  my  brave  and  manly  son  again?  Never 
see  him  to  whom  the  sun  gave  the  brightness  of  his  eyes; 
the  giant  trees  of  the  northern  mountains  his  straight 
and  stalwart  form;  the  grizzly  bear  the  strength  and 
power  of  his  body;  the  dove  the  soft  sweetness  of  his 
disposition;  the  fox  his  stealthiness  in  following  his 
foes;  the  fire  its  scorching  power  to  destroy  them;  the 
mocking-bird  the  sweetness  of  his  voice;  oh,  my  boy, 
my  boy,  the  beloved  of  my  beloved  and  me,  the  only 
son  of  my  loins,  shall  I  never,  never  see  thee  again?  " 

And  he  listened  in  mute  anguish  while  the  two  lads 
told  how  that  everything  had  been  happy  and  gay 
with  them  until  they  reached  the  Tauquitch  Valley. 
Here,  suddenly,  loud  roars  and  echoing  noises  were 
heard.  They  were  affrighted  and  wished  to  return,  but 


246   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  son  of  Algoot  declared  he  had  not  come  so  far  to 
retreat  at  the  first  sound  of  danger.  As  he  was  speak 
ing,  the  heavens  were  overcast,  and  suddenly  a  brilliant 
flash  of  lightning  came,  followed  by  greater  darkness, 
denser  clouds,  loud  thunders,  and  more  lightnings. 
But  undaunted  the  young  man  continued  his  journey, 
regardless  of  the  appeals  of  his  friends  until,  suddenly, 
in  a  loud  clap  of  thunder  and  in  the  brilliancy  of  long- 
continued  lightning,  the  monster  appeared  before 
them.  Almost  dead  with  the  fear  that  seized  them  at 
the  awful  appearance  of  the  frightful  demon,  they 
were  just  able  to  recognize  what  happened.  With 
one  fierce  sweep  of  his  hand,  in  which  he  held  a  rawhide- 
covered  battle-axe,  he  smote  down  the  brave  and 
fearless  youth,  who  had  thus  laughingly  rushed  to  his 
doom.  With  his  skull  crushed  in  he  must  have  died 
instantly,  but  that  was  nothing  to  what  followed. 
Picking  the^  dead  body  up  in  his  hands  as  if  he  were  a 
merest  nothing,  he  pulled  an  arm  out  of  its  socket,  and 
slinging  the  body  over  his  shoulder,  marched  back  to 
his  cave  eating  the  still  warm  flesh  of  his  victim,  the 
blood  covering  his  hands  and  jaws.  As  the  two  youths 
looked  upon  the  horrid  sight  and  heard  the  crunching 
of  the  bones  between  his  teeth,  they  fainted,  and  knew 
nothing  more  until  they  came  to  consciousness  with 
Algoot  standing  over  them. 

The  anger  of  Algoot  was  now  terrible  to  behold. 
Though  silent,  he  seemed  fairly  to  tower  to  the  tops 
of  the  trees  and  swell  into  a  monstrous  giant.  In  those 
moments  of  silent  anger  he  made  a  fearful  resolution. 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      247 

He  called  upon  the  gods  silently  and  in  his  heart,  but 
seriously  and  earnestly,  vowing  to  them  that  he  would 
never  rest  until  he  had  slain  Tauquitch  or  been  slain  by 
him. 

Silently  he  returned  to  his  home  in  the  valley,  and 
silently  he  set  to  work  to  carry  out  his  vow.  He  spake 
never  a  word  to  any  one  of  it,  but  each  day  saw  him 
energetically  training  his  body  for  the  great  conflict 
ahead  of  him.  He  ate  only  good  food  that  gave  him 
strength  and  power.  He  drank  no  injurious  liquors; 
he  went  to  bed  with  the  sun,  and  rose  at  earliest  dawn. 
He  took  long  walks;  he  climbed  over  steepest  moun 
tains;  he  wrestled  with  the  wild  bears  and  struggled 
until  he  slew  them.  He  followed  the  trail  of  the  moun 
tain  lion,  and  without  weapons  engaged  in  deadly 
battle  with  him  and  tore  him  limb  from  limb.  He 
ran,  day  by  day,  long  distances,  until  his  lungs  were 
twice  the  size  they  were  before,  and  his  muscles  were 
tougher  than  the  fibres  of  the  hardiest  trees. 

Many  moons  waxed  and  waned,  and  still  he  kept 
up  his  training.  Then  one  day  he  called  all  his  people 
together,  and  with  a  stem  and  forbidding  countenance 
said:  "  I  have  not  asked  you  to  sorrow  with  me,  to 
shed  your  tears  with  mine,  to  mingle  your  cries  and 
groans  with  mine,  at  the  fearful  death  of  my  noble  son. 
I  did  not  want  to  weep  and  sorrow  and  cry  away  the 
anger  of  my  soul.  I  wanted  my  heart  to  keep  burning 
hot  with  fury  against  his  hated  destroyer.  As  the  sun 
reaches  its  height  to-day,  I  leave  my  home  and  you  my 
people,  never  to  return  until  Tauquitch  is  slain.  He 


248   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

shall  die  or  Algoot  will  die.  Those  Above  cannot  resist 
my  plea  for  aid.  Send  up  your  prayers  with  mine 
that  I  may  find  this  enemy  of  my  people,  and  that  I 
may  have  strength  to  slay  him." 

With  loud  shouts  the  people  gave  their  approval  to 
the  brave  words  of  Algoot,  and  when  he  started  forth 
in  search  of  Tauquitch  they  followed  him,  to  cheer  him 
not  with  words  but  by  their  silent  presence  and  sym 
pathy.  Ascending  Mt.  San  Jacinto  to  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Tauquitch  cave  and  valley,  Algoot  called  with 
a  loud  voice  taunting  and  sneering  words  to  the  moun 
tain  giant. 

Tauquitch  did  not  reply. 

Then  Algoot  came  nearer  still,  and  cried  aloud: 
"  Slayer  of  young  children  and  women,  coward,  brag 
gart,  thou  darest  not  to  come  forth  and  fight  a  man!  " 

Tauquitch  came  to  the  entrance  of  his  cave,  stretch 
ing  and  yawning,  pretending  he  had  been  asleep. 
"  What  is  it,  funny  creature,  you  have  to  say  to  me?  " 

"  I  say  you  are  a  braggart  and  coward,  a  slayer  of 
women  and  children,  that  dare  not  meet  a  man  in  con 
flict.  Come  out  and  I  will  spit  on  you  and  cover  you 
with  ordure!  "  cried  Algoot. 

Then  the  people  all  shouted,  "  He  is  a  coward!  he 
dare  not  fight  Algoot!  " 

At  this  Tauquitch  glared  with  furious  anger.  He 
said,  "  Fight  thee?  Yes!  and  a  dozen  such!  "  Then, 
craftily  laying  a  plot  by  which  he  thought  he  might  be 
able  to  slay  not  only  Algoot,  but  many  of  the  people,  he 
said,  "  Go  you  away  to  the  valley  where  the  river  of 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      249 

my  mountain  flows  into  the  lake,  and  there  I  will  meet 
and  fight  you,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  for  me  to 
talk  to  you,  I  will  crunch  the  bones"  of  your  arms  and 
legs  between  my  teeth." 

He  wanted  to  get  the  people  down  there  to  watch  the 
conflict  where  they  could  not  readily  escape,  so  that 
when  he  had  slain  Algoot  he  might  seize  a  lot  of  them 
and  slay  them  for  his  horrid  and  cannibalistic  feasts. 

Though  Algoot  knew  he  must  be  ready  for  treachery 
from  the  wicked  Tauquitch,  he  assented  without  a  mur 
mur,  and  went  down  into  the  valley,  where  Algooton, 
once  called  Lakeview,  now  is.  In  those  days  the  San 
Jacinto  River  emptied  into  a  large  lake  here,  and  there 
was  no  passageway  cut  through  to  make  the  lake  at 
Elsinore  as  there  now  is. 

Soon,  with  wild  roars,  Tauquitch  was  seen  coming 
over  the  mountain.  Instead  of  descending  into  the 
valley,  he  picked  up  huge  granite  boulders,  and  threw 
them  with  great  force  at  Algoot.  The  poor  people 
looked  on  with  terror,  feeling  certain  that  their  hero 
and  champion  would  speedily  be  slain.  But  they 
little  knew  how  Those  Above  had  prepared  Algoot  for 
this  tremendous  conflict.  His  eyes  were  so  keen,  and 
his  strength  of  limb  so  great,  that  he  could  always  see 
where  the  great  boulder  was  likely  to  fall,  and  as  it 
came  he  rapidly  sprang  aside,  and  the  massive  rock 
fell  harmlessly  into  the  ground.  Scores  of  such  rocks 
were  thus  thrown,  and  to  the  great  amazement  of  the 
people  Algoot  himself  began  to  pick  up  the  rocks, 
and,  as  Tauquitch  ventured  nearer,  threw  them  with 


250   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

accurate  aim  and  awful  force  upon  the  monster.  Not 
expecting  such  attacks  as  this,  Tauquitch  was  unable 
to  get  out  of  the  way,  and  the  rocks  smote  him  so 
thick  and  so  fast  that  he  began  to  roar  with  rage  and 
anger,  as  before  he  had  roared  to  scare  Algoot.  But 
Algoot  paid  no  attention  to  his  roarings.  He  steadily 
fought  on.  Now  and  again  he  rushed  upon  Tauquitch, 
and  grappled  him,  but  just  as  he  was  getting  the  upper 
hand,  the  monster,  who  had  all  the  powers  of  a  wizard, 
changed  his  form,  and  disappeared  from  the  hands  of 
Algoot.  This  would  disconcert  Algoot,  but  he  did 
not  allow  it  to  discourage  him.  He  was  determined 
to  fight  until  one  or  the  other  of  them  fell  dead.  Again 
Tauquitch  had  recourse  to  the  throwing  of  the  rocks, 
and  those  who  now  wander  about  the  San  Jacinto 
and  Moreno  valleys  will  see  the  piled-up  granite  bould 
ers  there,  all  of  which  were  thrown  by  the  mountain 
monster  during  this  terrific  conflict. 

But  little  by  little  Algoot  began  to  get  the  better  of 
his  foe.  Hour  after  hour  they  fought,  and  at  length, 
in  despair,  Tauquitch  turned  himself  into  a  great  sea- 
serpent,  hoping  thus  to  frighten  Algoot  and  compel  him 
to  give  up  the  battle.  Instead  of  this  the  hero  rushed 
upon  the  hideous  monster,  and  grappled  with  his  long 
and  slimy  body.  He  held  it  so  tightly  that  Tauquitch 
writhed  and  wriggled  and  lashed  the  water  and  all  the 
surrounding  country  with  his  tail,  in  his  frantic  en 
deavors  to  shake  off  his  persistent  enemy.  In  one  of 
these  lashings  his  tail  cut  through  the  rim  that  formed 
the  shore  of  the  lake,  and  made  the  deep  cut  through 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      251 

the  hills  through  which  the  waters  now  flow  to  make 
Lake  Elsinore.  Speedily  all  the  water  was  drained 
away,  and  thus  Tauquitch  gave  help  to  Algoot  to  slay 
him.  For,  not  having  the  water  to  swim  in,  and 
having  assumed  the  form  of  a  sea-serpent,  Tauquitch 
was  helpless  on  the  dry  or  muddy  land.  Fearlessly 
and  relentlessly  Algoot  fell  upon  him,  and  soon  with  a 
great  and  mighty  effort  strangled  the  brutal  murderer 
of  his  son. 

Then  the  people  rejoiced  with  such  rejoicing  as  could 
not  find  expression  in  words. 

But  Algoot  was  not  through  with  his  dread  foe. 
There  the  scaly  serpent  lay  dead  on  the  ground,  and 
Algoot  determined  there  would  be  no  peace  unless 
he  were  burned  and  utterly  destroyed.  Calling  upon 
the  people,  therefore,  they  brought  down  great  piles 
of  wood  from  the  mountain.  He  himself  went  up,  and 
in  a  quiet  spot  of  the  San  Bernardino  Mountains, 
naked  and  tired  as  he  was,  sat  down  on  the  rocks  to 
rest,  while  the  people  prepared  the  funeral  pyre  upon 
which  he  was  to  burn  the  body  of  his  foe.  And  to 
this  day  the  rock  there  bears  the  impress  of  his  naked 
body.  No  one  can  mistake  the  marks,  but  the  Indians 
do  not  care  to  show  the  place  to  the  white  man,  for  the 
white  man  has  always  used  his  knowledge  to  the  injury 
of  the  Indian.  After  he  had  rested  for  a  while,  he  re 
turned  with  a  great  armful  of  green  wood,  and,  adding 
together  all  the  wood,  some  green  and  some  dry,  that 
the  people  had  brought,  he  soon  had  a  large  enough 
pile.  Then  he  placed  the  long  body  of  the  sea-serpent 


252   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

(Tauquitch)  upon  the  pile,  and  set  fire  to  it. 
In  silence  the  people  watched  the  fire  reach  the 
body,  and  in  silence  they  waited  until  it  should  be 
consumed. 

But,  alas,  the  use  of  green  wood  was  a  great  mis 
fortune.  For  as  the  fire  burned  the  body  of  the  sea 
monster,  those  who  were  watching  saw  the  spirit  of 
Tauquitch  ascend  to  the  sky  in  a  dim  wreath  of  smoke. 
Had  only  dry  wood  been  used  he  would  have  been 
entirely  destroyed. 

Hence,  although  Algoot  slew  Tauquitch,  his  spirit  was 
not  dead,  and  he  soon  returned  to  his  cave  in  the  San 
Jacinto  Mountains.  There  he  still  makes  the  terrible 
noises,  and  never  appears  now  except  in  disguise.  He 
it  is  that  makes  the  earthquakes,  and  he  is  bad  and 
wicked  in  every  conceivable  way.  Some  years  ago  he 
appeared  as  an  old  man,  well  dressed  and  honest  look 
ing.  He  went  to  where  some  Sabobas  were  working 
and  sat  and  watched  them.  When  they  went  home, 
they  all  became  sick  and  soon  thereafter  died.  He 
was  on  the  watch  to  seize  their  spirits,  and  that  is  why 
the  Sabobas  never  leave  a  dead  body  until  it  is  buried. 
For  it  is  at  this  time,  while  the  spirit  is  hovering  near, 
looking  at  his  own  body,  that  Tauquitch  has  the  power 
to  seize  it.  He  has  no  power  after  the  body  is  burned  or 
buried. 

Another  time  he  appeared  as  a  "  dude."  He  had 
gloves  on  his  hands,  and  a  cane  in  his  fingers,  and 
walked  "  all  same  swell  white  man."  It  is  when  he 
appears  like  this  that  the  earthquakes  come.  So  the 


SAN  JACINTO  AND  ITS  LEGENDS      253 

Indians  still  hate  and  fear  Tauquitch.     They  dread 
his  cave  in  the  mountains,  and  never  go  near  it. 

"  Perhaps  some  day  Those  Above  will  kill  the  spirit 
of  Tauquitch,  and  then  we  shall  no  longer  be  afraid." 
Thus  exclaimed  my  Indian  friend  as  he  concluded  his 
interesting  story, 


CHAPTER  XX 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOBAS 


of  the  most  interesting  of  the  Saboba  Indians 
was  Jose  Pedro  Lucero,  the  touching  story  of  whose 
death  is  told  in  another  chapter.  He  and  his  wife  thus 
related  to  me  the  legend  of  the  peopling  of  Southern 
California  : 

"  Before  my  people  came  here  they  lived  far,  far 
away  in  the  land  that  is  in  the  heart  of  the  setting  sun. 
But  Siwash,  our  great  god,  told  Uuyot,  the  warrior 
captain  of  my  people,  that  we  must  come  away  from 
this  land  and  sail  away  and  away  in  a  direction  that  he 
would  give  us.  Under  Uuyot's  orders  my  people  built 
big  boats  and  then,  with  Siwash  himself  leading  them, 
and  with  Uuyot  as  captain,  they  launched  them  into 
the  ocean  and  rowed  away  from  the  shore.  There  was 
no  light  on  the  ocean.  Everything  was  covered  with 
a  dark  fog  and  it  was  only  by  singing  as  they  rowed 
that  the  boats  were  enabled  to  keep  together. 

"  It  was  still  dark  and  foggy  when  the  boats  landed 
on  the  shores  of  this  land,  and  my  ancestors  groped 
about  in  the  darkness,  wondering  why  they  had  been 
brought  hither.  Then,  suddenly,  the  heavens  opened, 
and  lightnings  flashed  and  thunders  roared  and  the 


ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOBAS  255 

rains  fell,  and  a  great  earthquake  shook  all  the  earth. 
Indeed,  all  the  elements  of  earth,  ocean  and  heaven 
seemed  to  be  mixed  up  together,  and  with  terror  in  their 
hearts,  and  silence  on  their  tongues,  my  people  stood 
still,  awaiting  what  would  happen  further.  Though 
no  voice  had  spoken  they  knew  something  was  going 
to  happen,  and  they  were  breathless  in  their  anxiety 
to  know  what  it  was.  Then  they  turned  to  Uuyot  and 
asked  him  what  the  raging  of  the  elements  meant. 
Gently  he  calmed  their  fears  and  bade  them  be  silent 
and  wait.  As  they  waited,  a  terrible  clap  of  thunder 
rent  the  very  heavens  and  the  vivid  lightning  revealed 
the  frightened  people  huddling  together  as  a  pack  of 
sheep.  But  Uuyot  stood  alone,  brave  and  fearless, 
and  daring  the  anger  of  Those  Above.  With  a  loud 
voice  he  cried  out:  '  Wit-i-a-ko!  '  which  signified 
'  Who's  there;  what  do  you  want?  '  There  was  no 
response.  The  heavens  were  silent!  The  earth  was 
silent!  The  ocean  was  silent!  All  nature  was  silent! 
Then  with  a  voice  full  of  tremulous  sadness  and  loving 
yearning  for  his  people  Uuyot  said :  '  My  children,  my 
own  sons  and  daughters,  something  is  wanted  of  us  by 
Those  Above.  What  it  is  I  do  not  know.  Let  us 
gather  together  and  bring  pivot,  and  with  it  make  the 
big  smoke  and  then  dance  and  dance  until  we  are  told 
what  is  required  of  us.' 

"So  the  people  brought  pivot  —  a  native  tobacco 
that  grows  in  Southern  California  —  and  Uuyot  brought 
the  big  ceremonial  pipe  which  he  had  made  out  of 
rock,  and  he  soon  made  the  big  smoke  and  blew  the 


256   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

smoke  up  into  the  heavens  while  he  urged  the  people 
to  dance.  They  danced  hour  after  hour,  until  they 
grew  tired,  and  Uuyot  smoked  all  the  time,  but  still  he 
urged  them  to  dance. 

"  Then  he  called  out  again  to  Those  Above, 
'  Witiako!  '  but  could  obtain  no  response.  This  made 
him  sad  and  disconsolate,  and  when  the  people  saw 
Uuyot  sad  and  disconsolate  they  became  panic- 
stricken,  ceased  to  dance  and  clung  around  him  for 
comfort  and  protection.  But  poor  Uuyot  had  none 
to  give.  He  himself  was  the  saddest  and  most  for 
saken  of  all,  and  he  got  up  and  bade  the  people  leave 
him  alone,  as  he  wished  to  walk  to  and  fro  by  himself. 
Then  he  made  the  people  smoke  and  dance,  and  when 
they  rested  they  knelt  in  a  circle  and  prayed.  But  he 
walked  away  by  himself,  feeling  keenly  the  refusal  of 
Those  Above  to  speak  to  him.  His  heart  was  deeply 
wounded. 

"  But,  as  the  people  prayed  and  danced  and  sang, 
a  gentle  light  came  stealing  into  the  sky  from  the  far, 
far  east.  Little  by  little  the  darkness  was  driven  away. 
First  the  light  was  gray,  then  yellow,  then  white,  and 
at  last  the  glittering  brilliancy  of  the  sun  filled  all  the 
land  and  covered  the  sky  with  glory.  The  sun  had 
arisen  for  the  first  time,  and  in  its  light  and  warmth 
my  people  knew  they  had  the  favor  of  Those  Above, 
and  they  were  contented  and  happy. 

"  But  when  Siwash,  the  god  of  earth,  looked  around 
and  saw  everything  revealed  by  the  sun,  he  was 
discontented,  for  the  earth  was  bare  and  level  and 


ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOBAS  257 

monotonous  and  there  was  nothing  to  cheer  the  sight. 
So  he  took  some  of  the  people  and  of  them  he  made  high 
mountains,  and  of  some,  smaller  mountains.  Of  some 
he  made  rivers  and  creeks  and  lakes  and  waterfalls,  and 
of  others,  coyotes,  foxes,  deer,  antelope,  bear,  squirrels, 
porcupines  and  all  the  other  animals.  Then  he  made 
out  of  other  people  all  the  different  kinds  of  snakes 
and  reptiles  and  insects  and  birds  and  fishes.  Then 
he  wanted  trees  and  plants  and  flowers,  and  he  turned 
some  of  the  people  into  these  things.  Of  every  man  or 
woman  that  he  seized  he  made  something  according  to 
their  value.  When  he  had  done  he  had  used  up  so  many 
people  he  was  scared.  So  he  set  to  work  and  made  a 
new  lot  of  people,  some  to  live  here  and  some  to  live 
everywhere.  And  he  gave  to  each  family  its  own 
language  and  tongue  and  its  own  place  to  live,  and  he 
told  them  where  to  live  and  the  sad  distress  that  would 
come  upon  them  if  they  mixed  up  their  tongues  by 
intermarriage.  Each  family  was  to  live  in  its  own 
place  and  while  all  the  different  families  were  to  be 
friends  and  live  as  brothers,  tied  together  by  kinship, 
amity  and  concord,  there  was  to  be  no  mixing  of  bloods. 

"  Thus  were  settled  the  original  inhabitants  on  the 
coast  of  Southern  California  by  Siwash,  the  god  of  the 
earth,  and  under  the  captaincy  of  Uuyot." 

On  another  occasion  Pedro  talked  to  me  of  the  "  days 
of  the  old  "  as  follows: 

11  In  the  ancient  days  the  Sabobas  had  little  rain, 
even  as  now,  and  without  rain  and  water,  crops  were 
bad.  Uuyot  taught  them  it  was  their  badness,  their 


258   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

sinf ulness,  that .  caused  the  water  to  dry  up  in  the 
heavens  and  in  the  springs  of  the  earth.  Siwash 
refused  to  give  them  the  vivifying  rain  unless  they 
were  good.  When  a  drought  was  long  continued 
Uuyot  called  all  the  people  together  and  spoke  to  them 
about  their  wrong-doing.  He  examined  each  one  of 
them  separately  in  order  to  find  out  each  one's  personal 
sins. 

"  Then  it  was  that  Siwash  taught  him  all  the  good 
there  was  in  pivat,  the  native  '  coyote  tobacco.'  If 
a  mixture  was  made  of  hot  water  and  pivat,  and  this 
was  drunk,  it  would  produce  vomiting,  and  in  this 
manner  the  souls  or  hearts  were  made  clean  and  good. 
They  had  used  pivat  to  make  the  big  smoke  for  a  long 
time,  but.  now,  under  Uuyot's  direction,  it  was  to  be 
used  to  cleanse  the  bodies,  souls  and  hearts. 

"  And  Siwash?  You  ask  who  he  was.  Siwash  was 
God  of  the  Earth.  He  was  nothing  and  yet  he  was 
everything.  He  could  not  be  seen  and  yet  he  could  be 
felt.  He  was  all  powerful  and  yet  all  gentle.  He 
was  in  the  wind,  and  in  the  sun,  in  the  rain  and  in 
the  stream,  in  the  lightning  and  in  the  storm,  in  the 
brightness  of  a  clear  day  and  in  the  darkness  of  the 
darkest  night.  He  was  Siwash  —  the  great  power, 
the  something  I  cannot  see. 

"  When  Siwash  had  taught  Uuyot  how  to  use  the 
pivat,  and  Uuyot  had  made  my  people  use  it,  then  he 
required  them  all  to  dance,  and  after  they  had  danced, 
to  go  down  on  their  bended  knees  and  bow  their  faces 
to  the  ground  and  silently  pray  to  Those  Above  for 


ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOBAS  259 

pardon  for  all  the  wrong  they  had  done.  And  when  he 
was  told  to  grant  the  people  pardon  he  told  them  his 
words  would  be  no  good  to  them  unless  they  had  first 
told  all  the  wrong  they  had  done,  and  then  by  the  use 
of  pivat  made  their  bodies,  souls  and  hearts  clean. 

"  When  all  were  in  proper  condition  then  they  might 
ask  Those  Above  for  the  good  gifts  they  needed ;  and 
each  one  asked  for  what  he  desired.  Some  asked  for 
rain  to  make  the  seed  grow,  others  that  the  springs 
might  be  full,  and  the  women  for  water  to  clean  them 
selves.  Then  Siwash  brought  the  clouds  loaded  with 
rain  in  great  numbers.  There  were  plenty  of  them. 
He  didn't  hesitate  and  send  only  a  few,  but  he  made 
them  come  in  large  numbers,  and  the  rain  fell  and 
watered  the  earth  and  made  everything  grow  famously. 

"  Alas!  it  is  not  so  now.  Siwash  never  hears  us  call 
to  him  now.  We  cannot  get  rain  now.  The  earth 
comes  up  dry  no  matter  how  deeply  we  dig.  We  do 
not  pray,  we  do  not  dance,  we  do  not  smoke  pivat,  we 
do  not  vomit.  Our  hearts  and  our  souls  are  not  right, 
so  the  rain  does  not  come." 

This  reference  to  the  vomiting  may  seem  strange  to 
some  of  my  readers,  yet  it  is  a  most  common  ceremony. 
In  the  Snake  Dance  of  the  Hopis,  which  I  have  fully 
described  elsewhere,*  the  concluding  act  is  that  of  in 
ternal  purification  by  the  swallowing  of  a  mixture  that 
produces  emesis. 

When  I  asked  Jose  Pedro  why  his  people  were  so 

*  The  Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert  Region.  Boston :  Little, 
Brown  &  Co.,  1903. 


260   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

scattered,  he  made  answer  somewhat  as  follows:  "  In 
those  early  days  our  women  were  well  and  strong 
and  children  came  quick  and  in  large  numbers.  No 
woman  suffered  pain  when  a  child  was  born  any 
more  than  a  vine  suffers  when  ripe  grapes  are  taken 
from  it.  As  fast  as  families  increased  and  became 
large  enough,  Uuyot  sent  them  into  new  neighborhoods 
to  make  new  settlements.  Then  it  was  nothing  for 
our  people  to  have  ten  and  twelve  and  fourteen  or 
more  children  in  a  family  and  we  were  never  afraid  of 
being  overpeopled.  The  world  was  large  and  as  soon 
as  one  place  had  too  many  people  in  it  they  would 
move  elsewhere.  Thus  it  was  that  my  people  soon 
covered  the  earth." 

Here  is  a  story  he  told  me  of  a  battle  between  his 
people  and  the  neighboring  Temeculas: 

"  Once  there  was  a  great  battle  between  the  Sabobas 
and  the  Temecula  Indians.  Ever  since  the  days  of 
Uuyot  the  vSabobas  had  gone  and  gathered  seeds  in  a 
certain  place  where  they  were  abundant  and  easy  to 
gather.  But  one  day  some  evil  power,  no  doubt 
Tauquitch,  the  devil  of  Mt.  San  Jacinto,  urged  the 
Temeculas  to  come  to  that  same  place  also  to  gather 
seeds.  And  who  does  not  know  the  result.  When  two 
bands  of  women  seek  to  gather  the  same  seeds  there  is 
trouble,  much  and  serious  trouble,  for  women  fight 
with  tongues  as  well  as  hands  and  arms,  and  tongues 
often  hurt  more  than  wounds  on  faces  and  arms  and 
bodies. 

"  After  a  sad  and  disastrous  fight  among  the  women, 


ADVENT  OF  THE  SABOBAS  261 

the  men  met  and  they  fought.  With  bows  and  arrows 
and  spears  and  heavy  hammers  wrapped  in  buckskin, 
and  axes  with  sharp  edges,  and  deer  horns  sharpened 
to  a  dangerous  point,  my  people  and  the  Temeculas 
fell  one  upon  another.  The  air  resounded  with  their 
bloodthirsty  yells,  and  the  rocks  sent  back  the  same 
horrid  sounds.  The  Temeculas  were  in  the  valley, 
where  the  seeds  had  been  growing,  and  they  dared  my 
people  to  rush  upon  them.  As  they  did  so  the  Teme 
culas  fired  arrows  at  them  and  drove  their  spears 
through  their  basket  shields  and  struck  them  on  the 
head  and  body  with  their  deadly  hammers  and  battle- 
axes,  and  it  soon  seemed  as  if  they  would  beat  my  peo 
ple.  Then,  led  by  Nicanor,  one  of  our  great  captains, 
the  Temeculas  were  driven  away,  and  many  of  them 
killed.  The  Sabobas  aimed  so  well  with  their  arrows 
that  numbers  were  slain,  and  the  others  ran  up  the 
hillside  to  escape  from  those  deadly  arrows.  And 
that  was  the  worst  thing  for  my  people  that  could 
have  been  done.  When  the  Temeculas  climbed  up 
the  canyon  sides,  they  picked  up  heavy  rocks  and 
threw  them  down  upon  the  heads  of  my  people  and 
soon  killed  them  all  but  Nicanor,  who  managed  to 
hide  under  a  rocky  ledge  and  who  was  not  discovered. 
The  canyon  and  its  sides  were  covered  with  the  dead 
Sabobas,  and  the  vultures  from  afar  came  sailing  around 
and  around  and  they  soon  told  the  great  message  of 
sadness  to  the  women  and  children  at  home. 

"  And   then,   when   Nicanor  came   home   and   told 
how  of    all    the    Saboba  warriors  he   was    the  only 


262   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

one  left,  the  whole  mountainside  resounded  with  the 
mournful  wails  of  my  people. 

"  That  was  the  beginning  of  the  downfall  of  my 
people.  They  never  again  were  strong  in  numbers. 
When  the  Spanish  priests  came  they  took  away  more 
of  our  power.  They  compelled  our  men  and  women 
to  work  for  them,  and  took  away  the  best  lands  and 
waters.  And  when  they  went  away  the  Mexicans 
came  and  took  away  more  of  our  lands  and  waters,  and 
made  our  people  work  the  harder  for  them,  and  at  last 
the  Americans  came,  and  took  all  we  had,  but  this  barren, 
desolate  spot,  and  we  have  dwindled  and  dwindled, 
until  soon  one  tiny  little  dot  will  be  all  that  will  be 
required  to  represent  what  was  once  the  great  and 
powerful  Saboba  people." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE     STUDY    OF     FOLK    LORE)      IN     RAMONA'S     COUNTRY 

WHEN  we  consider  the  archaeological  and  ethno 
logical  advantages  and  opportunities  presented 
to  Coronado  and  Espejo  and  Onate  and  Vargas,  we  feel 
like  reviling  their  stupidity  and  want  of  insight  and 
foresight.  We,  to-day,  can  see  what  a  glorious  wealth 
of  fascinating  material  was  scorned  by  them, —  passed 
by  with  as  much  indifference  as  though  it  had  not 
existed.  And  we  feel  as  indignant  at  their  apathy, 
or  worse,  as  we  should  at  a  friend  who  might  return 
with  a  handful  of  stones  he  had  picked  up  in  a  foreign 
land,  where  there  was  a  countless  mass  of  them,  which 
a  little  examination  would  have  revealed  to  be  flaw 
less  diamonds.  Castafieda  and  a  few  others  did  pick 
up  a  few  diamonds,  and  for  these  we  are  thankful,  but 
our  regret  at  their  scarcity  is  greater  than  our  joy  at 
what  we  have. 

And  so  is  it  with  our  diamonds  of  knowledge  of  the 
life  and  habits  of  the  aborigines  of  California.  A 
hundred  —  nay  even  fifty  years  ago  —  one  might  have 
gathered  a  harvest  of  diamonds,  piled  up  stores  of 
them  for  centuries  of  enjoyment  yet  to  come.  Now 
the  field  is  almost  barren,  and  only  by  careful  search 


264   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

and  hard  labor  can  even  a  few  be  found.  More  so, 
perhaps,  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  West  or  South 
west  of  our  country,  opportunities  among  the  abori 
gines  of  California  for  Folk  Lore  research  are  fast 
disappearing.  As  Stephen  Powers  ably  argued  in 
that  remarkable  letter  of  his  to  Major  J.  W.  Powell, 
published  as  a  preface  to  his  Tribes  of  California,  the 
richly  fertile  valleys  and  foothills  and  the  pine-clad 
mountains  of  California  once  sheltered  and  fed  a  vast, 
teeming,  happy  and  healthy  population.  The  esti 
mates  given  so  astounded  Major  Powell  that  he  hesi 
tated  about  publishing  them,  and  asked  the  author 
to  modify  them.  Instead  of  qualifying  them  the 
sturdy  writer  defended  them,  justified  them  and 
vouched  for  their  accuracy.  He  had  carefully  and 
thoroughly  pondered  their  magnitude  before  he  had 
written  them,  and  insisted  that  if  they  be  published  at 
all,  they  appear  as  he  originally  wrote  them.  And 
the  speedy  diminution  of  the  population  from  the 
time  of  which  he  wrote  is  almost  paralleled  by  the 
rate  at  which  they  are  now  passing  away.  In  a  few 
decades  what  frightful  and  marvellous  changes  have 
occurred. 

In  his  useful  monograph  Powers  gives  compara 
tively  little  of  the  Folk  Lore  of  the  California  Indian, 
and,  in  what  he  does  give,  there  is  no  reference  to  any 
of  the  important  peoples  who  lived  south  of  the  Teha- 
chipi  Range.  All  the  powerful  tribes  of  the  valleys, 
of  the  mountains,  of  the  seashore,  of  the  islands,  of 
Southern  California  were  unvisited,  or,  at  least,  not 


STUDY  OF  FOLK  LORE  265 

described  by  him.  And  soon  they  will  be  —  to  use  the 
Old  Testament  word  —  "  not." 

The  story  of  Ramona  suggests  some  of  the  material 
that  awaits  the  Folk  Lore  student  in  the  country 
therein  described.  As  I  have  shown  elsewhere,  Mt. 
San  Jacinto  is  full  of  suggestions  to  the  Indians  who 
cluster  in  tiny  settlements  all  around  it.  They  tell 
of  the  Bear  Valley  Lake,  long  since  dried  up;  they 
have  stories  as  to  how  Blsinore  Lake  was  formed,  and 
high  above  Arrowhead  Springs  can  be  seen  the  spot 
where  their  warrior  hero  sat  down  to  rest  after  his 
great  battle  with  the  foe  that  cut  the  waterway  of 
the  San  Jacinto  River  from  Moreno  Valley  into  the 
Elsinore  Valley. 

When  one  finds  himself  among  the  Indians  of  the 
desert,  south  and  east  of  San  Jacinto  Mountain,  what 
stores  of  interesting  lore  might  be  accumulated  of 
geysers  and  mud  springs  and  earthquakes  and  new 
formed  lakes  and  disappearance  of  old  lakes,  if  one 
could  win  the  hearts  of  these  desert  peoples  so  that 
their  tongues  would  reveal  the  long  hidden  secrets  of 
their  souls. 

Among  the  younger  people  of  the  Indian  tribes 
new  interests  are  being  awakened.  Mexican  and 
American  influences  have  largely  changed  the  current 
of  their  thoughts.  They  are  growing  civilized  into  a 
money-grubbing,  whiskey-drinking  materialism  which 
scoffs  at  the  mysticism,  the  simple-hearted  supernatur- 
alism  of  the  older  members  of  the  tribes,  and  many  a 
time  has  a  story  been  stopped  in  my  hearing  by  the 


266   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

sarcastic  and  scoffing  voice  of  a  young  school  Indian, 
whose  respect  and  veneration  have  been  civilized  away 
to  give  place  to  a  veneer  of  white  man's  learning,  vices 
and  trousers.  The  old  majellas,  the  proud,  old,  con 
scientious  basket-makers,  who  realized  that  they  were 
"  the  people,"  are  fast  passing  away.  They  wove 
their  religion,  their  faith,  their  hopes,  their  fears,  their 
national  history  into  the  designs  of  their  baskets,  and, 
as  yet,  we  have  only  just  begun  to  learn  how  to  inter 
pret  them.  In  ten  years'  time  there  will  be  but  few  of 
them  left  and  the  younger  women  who  make  baskets 
know  nothing  and  care  less  about  poetry  or  religion  in 
design.  They  make  what  will  sell,  and  make  as  speedily 
and  easily  as  possible.  So,  if  the  lore  of  the  basket- 
maker  is  to  be  collected,  it  must  be  done  now,  or  it 
never  can  be  done. 

Around  old  Fort  Tejon  and  on  the  Tule  River  are  a 
few  Paiutis,  who  came  over  years  ago  from  Nevada. 
They  are  the  weavers  of  many  of  the  fine  Tulare  Baskets 
that  are  the  envy  and  the  despair  of  the  collector. 
Not  more  than  twenty  of  the  original  stock  still  live, 
and  who  shall  be  able  to  make  up  to  us  for  the  loss  of 
their  Folk  Lore,  not  yet  gathered,  when  they 
shall  pass  away.  The  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
Indians  that  once  roamed  over  the  San  Joaquin  Valley, 
and  occupied  the  western  slopes  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas, 
or  the  eastern  canyons  and  foot-hills  of  the  Coast  Range, 
—  where  are  they?  A  scattered  remnant,  —  a  few 
here,  a  few  yonder,  losing  their  identity,  producing  a 
mongrel  race  of  half-breeds.  Where  is  all  the  lore  of 


STUDY  OF  FOLK  LORE  267 

their  tribal  life?  Rich  it  must  be  in  stories  of  moun 
tain,  flood,  storm  and  plain,  and  we  know  next  to 
nothing  of  it. 

Perhaps  there  are  half  a  dozen  of  the  original  Yose- 
mite  Valley  Indians  still  left.  It  seems  a  crime  to  let 
them  pass  away  without  leaving  us  their  complete 
stories  of  Bridal  Veil  and  Yosemite  and  Vernal  and 
Nevada  Falls  and  Mirror  Lake  and  El  Capitan,  the 
Domes,  the  Spires  and  all  the  other  "  thoughts  of  the 
Divine,"  sculptured  in  the  granite  walls  of  that  pic 
turesque  valley.  And  Hetch  Hetchy  and  Bloody 
Canyon  and  Mt.  Whitney  and  the  Canyons  of  Kings, 
Kern  and  other  Sierra  rivers  are  full  of  objects  that 
have  made  Folk  Lore  for  the  Indians  who  used  to  live 
among  them. 

How  fascinating  it  would  be  if  a  white  man  could 
stand  side  by  side,  mentally  and  spiritually  with  a 
medicine  man,  shaman  or  tingaiuash  of  the  Southern 
California  Indians  and  learn  to  look  with  his  eyes  at 
disease,  its  origin,  philosophy,  meaning  and  cure. 
An  old  tingaiuash  died  recently  at  Cahuilla  who  would 
have  opened  his  inner  heart  to  me  ere  long  had  he  not 
"  passed  on."  And,  unfortunately,  he  is  the  last  of 
his  class  there,  and  the  number  elsewhere  is  rapidly 
diminishing. 

Whence  originated  the  almost  universal  idea  that 
dancing  and  smoking  would  propitiate  "Those  Above?" 
And  how  do  the  dancers  and  smokers  of  to-day  feel  and 
believe  that  their  efforts  are  received  ? 

When  I  think  of  the  infinitude  of  subjects  upon 


268   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

which  the  Southern  California  Indian  has  doubtless 
thought  and  formulated  ideas  which  have  crystallized 
into  ceremonies,  I  feel  more  than  ever  an  intense  long 
ing  that  this  great  field  should  be  explored  before  it 
disappears.  The  thoughts  of  the  heavens,  —  the  sun, 
moon,  planets,  stars,  milky  way;  the  revolution  of 
the  north  polar  constellations;  the  winter  and  summer 
solstices,  etc.  Their  own  personal  origin  and  how 
mountains,  valleys,  clouds,  oceans,  rivers,  trees, 
animals,  insects,  fishes  came  into  existence.  Whence 
come  the  storms  and  whither  do  they  go?  The  cere 
monies  and  their  meaning  at  birth,  during  childhood, 
adolescence,  man  and  womanhood,  marriage,  death. 
Their  occupations,  handicrafts,  amusements,  pleasures, 
personal  and  social,  miseries,  diseases  and  conceptions 
of  death.  Their  love  of  offspring  and  treatment  of 
children.  Their  use  of  charms  and  fetiches.  Their 
medicine  men  and  their  incantations,  sorceries,  etc. 
Their  foods  and  methods  of  preparation.  Their  knowl 
edge  of  plants  and  their  properties.  Their  conceptions 
of  soul,  mind,  body  and  a  thousand  and  one  other 
things  that  must  occur  to  the  inquisitive  mind. 

But  how  is  all  this  lore  to  be  gained?  "  Who  shall 
go  up  and  possess  the  land?  "  Surely  there  are  enough 
keenly  intelligent  and  interested  people  in  California 
to  make  some  kind  of  a  concerted  effort  to  bring  about 
this  desirable  end.  In  knowledge  of  the  moon  our 
scientists  unite  the  world  over,  allotting  one  portion  to 
one  set  of  observers  and  another  to  another,  and  so  on, 
until  there  is  not  a  single  mile  of  the  observable  moon 


STUDY  OF  FOLK  LORE  269 

that  is  not  nightly  watched  by  several  careful  and 
conscientious  astronomers  in  some  quarter  of  the  globe. 
The  result  is  that  we  know  every  change  that 
takes  place  as  speedily  as  it  occurs.  Is  it  not  worth 
while  to  adopt  some  such  method  in  our  ethnological 
work?  Cannot  enough  enthusiasm  be  gendered  to 
lead  a  sufficient  number  of  voluntary  students  to 
offer  to  do  some  portion  of  this  important  work?  It 
matters  not  whether  the  leader  of  such  a  society  be 
preeminently  a  scientific  man,  provided  he  have 
organizing  and  directing  ability  and  enough  of  the 
"  sinews  of  war  "  to  be  able  to  give  a  little  aid  where 
needed  to  accomplish  extraordinary  results. 

And  as  one  who,  in  a  humble  way,  has  done  a  little 
of  this  work  during  the  past  twenty-seven  years,  may 
I  suggest  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  right  spirit  to  go 
into  it.  Those  who  engage  in  it,  to  be  successful, 
must  be  able  to  go  amongst  the  Amerinds  as  their 
friends, —  not  as  consciously  superior  beings  who  look 
down  with  contempt  upon  them  and  show  scorn  of  their 
social,  domestic  and  religious  rites.  It  would  be  of  little 
use  for  one  to  come  to  us  and  seek  to  know  the  inner 
meanings  of  our  ceremonials  if  the  attitude  he  assumed 
showed  clearly  at  the  outset  that  he  regarded  them  as 
foolish,  senseless,  superstitious  rites.  There  must  be 
sympathy.  In  one  case  when  I  was  being  admitted  to 
one  of  the  most  secret  rites  of  a  tribe,  my  guide  and 
friend  —  my  Indian  brother  —  turned  to  me  and  in  a 
tone  of  mingled  suspicion  and  fear  said  "  You  no 
laugh?  "  I  assured  him  I  was  as  serious  as  he  was. 


270   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Often  when  in  the  kivas  of  Hopi  and  Acoma  and  Zuni 
at  the  ceremonials  of  the  fraternities  I  have  been 
asked  to  go  out  because  of  this  fear  that  I  should 
laugh,  but  my  invariable  "  You  lie,  when  you  say  I 
laugh!  "  though  severe  and  harsh  to  a  white  man's  ears 
always  brought  relief  and  comfort  to  my  Amerind 
friends,  and,  with  but  one  exception  in  my  experience, 
gained  for  me  permission  to  remain. 

I  have  also  found,  too,  that  an  earnest  and  honest 
attempt  to  join  in  songs,  prayers  and  ceremonies  has 
gained  for  me  the  approval  of  the  aborigines.  In  the 
secret  kiva  ceremony  of  "washing  the  snakes"  prior 
to  the  Snake  Dance  I  have  sat  among  the  priests,  and, 
when  a  great  rattlesnake  crawled  around  my  feet  and 
up  my  leg  I  gently  took  it  in  my  hands,  as  I  had  seen 
the  Hopis  do,  stroked  it  and  then  passed  it  over  to  the 
nearest  priest.  This  and  my  evident  endeavor  to 
sing  their  songs  led  them  to  tell  me  that  I  had  a  white 
face  but  a  Hopi  heart.  I  was  "  lolomai," — good  — 
and  few  ceremonies  occur  in  that  tribe  to  which  I 
cannot  now  gain  entrance. 

Another  thing  should  be  observed.  One  must  not 
take  things  for  granted,  or  accept  as  infallible  the 
statements  of  agents  and  teachers  who,  owing  to  their 
daily  association  with  the  Amerind,  are  supposed  to 
speak  with  authority.  For  instance,  during  the  time 
of  the  ghost  dance  craze,  I  was  at  the  Pyramid  Lake 
reservation  and  also  at  Walker  Lake.  At  both  places 
I  was  assured  by  agent  and  teacher  that  no  dances 
were  going  on  there,  and  yet  in  thirty-six  hours  at  the 


STUDY  OF  FOLK  LORE  271 

latter  place  I  found  the  dances  in  full  operation  and 
that,  indeed,  it  was  one  of  the  hot  beds  for  sending 
out  the  germs  of  the  craze  throughout  the  country. 

When  I  determined  to  seek  some  knowledge  of  the 
symbolism  of  the  basketry  designs  of  our  Southern 
California  tribes,  I  asked  a  lady  to  accompany  me,  who, 
for  many  years,  had  lived  among  them  as  girl,  teacher 
and  finally  as  physician.  She  had  had  fullest  access 
to  their  homes  and  might  have  been  supposed,  natur 
ally,  to  have  had  full  information  in  regard  to  the 
subject  on  which  I  desired  knowledge.  She  assured 
me,  however,  that  their  designs  meant  nothing  and 
that  my  endeavors  would  be  in  vain.  Yet  as  I  write 
this  I  have  before  me,  as  the  result  of  that  visit,  a 
good-sized  note-book  full  of  most  interesting  lore, 
not  only  about  basketry  designs,  but  about  their 
mythology  and  early  history.  My  friend  gazed  at  me  in 
blank  amazement  when  I  began  to  read  her  some  of 
these  notes  and  assured  me  that  in  all  the  years  she 
had  been  with  them  she  had  never  once  heard  any  of 
the  subjects  mentioned. 

Another  suggestion.  I  do  not  know  how  other 
people  work,  but  I  seldom  ask  questions.  If  I  wish 
to  know  the  mythology  of  any  particular  people  I 
gather  together  two  or  three  of  the  leaders  and  the 
best  story-teller  of  the  tribe.  I  give  them  a  good 
dinner,  then  plenty  of  tobacco,  and  when  they  are  in 
the  first  enjoyment  of  their  smoke  I  begin  to  tell  them 
stories  either  of  the  white  people,  or  of  some  other 
Indian  tribe,  making  the  story  bear  directly  upon  what 


272   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

I  desire  to  gain  from  them.  Almost  invariably,  even 
before  I  have  done,  some  one  of  the  listeners  is  ready 
with  a  story  which  effectively  answers  all  the  questions 
I  might  have  asked,  and  which,  often,  in  the  very 
asking,  close  up  the  springs  of  knowledge. 

Patience  is  another  essential  characteristic.  For 
over  ten  years  I  waited  before  I  was  invited  to  enter 
the  To  hoi  wa  or  sweat-house  of  the  Havasupai  Indians. 
When  the  invitation  did  come  there  came  also  what 
was  practically  an  open  sesame  to  all  the  songs  and 
ideas  of  the  people  in  regard  to  its  establishment  by 
To-cho-pa,  their  good  God,  and  its  religious  significance. 
Patience  paid. 

Seldom  do  I  use  money  to  gain  anything  I  desire. 
Often  the  mere  proffering  of  it  does  more  harm  than 
good.  There  are  subtler  and  less  harmful  ways  of 
"  bribery,"  if  that  be  deemed  necessary,  as,  for  in 
stance,  the  presenting  of  food  at  the  altar  of  one  of  the 
kivas  when  a  ceremony  is  going  on,  or  the  purchase  of 
some  desirable  ceremonial  paraphernalia  and  pre 
senting  it  to  the  priest. 

But  whatever  the  methods  employed,  or  by  whom, 
I  shall  rejoice  if  the  reapers  enter  the  over-ripe  harvest 
before  it  is  too  late.  Many  hands  make  light  work, 
and  concerted  effort  will  accomplish  wonderful  results. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

RAMONA    AND   THE   FRANCISCAN    MISSIONS 

T^AMONA  is  inseparably  connected  with  the  Francis- 
-*•  *•  can  Missions  of  California.  Many  so-called  histori 
cal  novels  pervert  and  distort  facts  and  are  therefore  an 
injury  to  their  readers.  But  Ramona,  in  its  references 
to  Missions  and  the  padres,  is  so  true  to  life,  so  true  to 
their  spirit,  that  it  can  be  used  as  an  auxiliary  text 
book  with  great  advantage  to  those  who  wish  to  gain 
a  true  conception  of  the  Franciscans  and  their  work. 
While  herself  a  Protestant,  Mrs.  Jackson,  as  her  life 
and  work  show,  was  a  woman  of  broad  mind,  generous 
culture,  and  liberal  sympathies.  There  was  nothing 
of  the  narrow  sectarian  in  her.  Nobleness  of  soul 
manifested  in  nobleness  of  life  appealed  to  her,  whether 
displayed  by  a  Catholic,  a  Protestant,  a  Hottentot,  an 
Indian,  or  a  Patagonian.  Hence  when  she  came  to 
know  of  the  self-denying  labors  of  the  pioneer  padres, 
Serra,  Palou,  Crespi,  Lasuen,  Martin,  Catala,  Sitjar 
and  others,  her  soul  was  rilled  with  reverence  for  them. 
Who  can  forget  her  enthusiastic  exclamation  as  she 
first  looked  upon  a  picture  of  Serra  at  the  Santa 
Barbara  Mission :  "  Ah!  faithful,  noble,  dear  old  face; 
what  an  unselfish,  devoted  life  you  led!  All  I  ask  is 
to  be  permitted  to  meet  you  in  the  other  world." 


274   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

It  is  in  this  spirit  she  looked  upon  all  the  work  of  the 
Franciscans  that  was  noble,  self-denying,  self-sacrific 
ing,  heroic.  In  her  articles  on  the  Missions  in  the  Cen 
tury  Magazine,  which  have  since  been  reissued  in 
book  form  by  Little,  Brown,  &  Co.,  of  Boston,  under 
the  title  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Missions,  she 
gives  full  expression  to  her  warm  appreciation  of  the 
labors  of  these  noble  men.  This  book  should  be  read 
as  a  companion  volume  to  Ramona.  In  my  own  book, 
In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions  of  California,  issued  by 
the  same  publishers,  I,  also  a  Protestant,  have  en 
deavored  to  do  some  small  measure  of  justice  to  the 
great  work  accomplished  by  these  humanity-loving, 
God-fearing  men  of  a  faith  alien  to  my  own.  Hence, 
in  this  volume,  there  can  be  no  extensive  attempt 
made,  either  to  describe  and  expatiate  upon  their 
work  as  builders  of  the  picturesque  Missions  that  are 
the  commanding  features  of  so  many  California  land 
scapes,  or  as  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  souls,  seeking 
to  win  these  heathen  Indians  into  the  fold  of  the 
church.  The  other  books  referred  to  must  be  read 
for  these  details,  but  a  few  personal  points  of  interest 
and  a  brief  sketch  legitimately  belong  here. 

Few  who  read  Ramona  fail  to  fall  in  love  with  the 
Franciscan  padre  there  known  as  the  Padre  Salvier- 
derra,  and  the  question  naturally  arises :  Was  he  a  real 
character?  As  if  in  anticipatory  answer  to  this  question, 
Henry  Sandham,  in  his  notes  to  the  Pasadena  Edi 
tion  of  Ramona  says:  "  As  illustrative  of  the  author's 
fidelity  to  truth  in  character  drawing,  I  shall  mention 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      275 

but  one  of  the  many  real  characters;  namely,  the 
original  of  Father  Salvierderra.  The  character  is 
positively  startling  in  its  accurateness.  I  knew  the 
'  original  Father  well  and  often  sought  his  assistance 
and  advice.  I  remember  I  needed  him  once  while 
at  work  in  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission,  and  failing 
to  find  him  in  any  other  of  his  favorite  haunts, 
I  entered  the  church,  where  I  found  him  kneeling  before 
the  altar,  praying.  He  looked  up  as  I  entered,  and 
with  his  usual  lovable  smile  said,  '  I  will  be  with  you 
in  a  few  minutes,  my  son/  Shortly  he  rose  to  his 
feet,  threw  his  arm  around  my  neck,  and  leaning  on 
my  shoulder  (he  was  then  well  past  seventy  years  of 
age)  he  asked  as  we  passed  down  the  corridor,  '  What 
can  I  do  to  help  you9  '  In  this  question  lay  the  key 
note  of  his  whole  life. 

"  At  another  time,  as  we  walked  through  the  garden, 
he  stooped,  and  putting  his  hand  under  one  of  the 
gorgeous  Californian  poppies,  remarked  as  he  turned 
its  face  up  to  me,  '  Is  not  our  little  brother  beautiful?  ' 

"  Though  the  Franciscans  usually  wear  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat  when  in  the  open  air,  I  never  saw  the 
original  of  Father  Salvierderra  wear  a  hat  except  when 
riding;  when  on  foot  he  would  often  walk  with  his 
cowl  thrown  back,  his  head  exposed  to  the  sun.  Occa 
sionally  I  have  seen  him  gather  a  handful  of  leaves, 
place  them  on  his  head  and  draw  his  cowl  forward, 
remarking,  '  My  big  brother  is  too  strong  for  me.' 

"  In  my  studio  I  have  the  venerable  Father's  com 
plete  costume,  given  to  me  at  the  time  I  was  making 


276   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  Ramona  sketches;  it  includes  the  cassock,  cowl, 
sandals  and  hempen  girdle  with  its  symbolical  five 
knots.  The  sandals  are  well  worn,  and  the  cowl 
bleached  and  faded  by  the  sun, —  marks  of  the  end 
less  round  of  toils  and  duties  so  faithfully  described 
by  Mrs.  Jackson." 

Another  writer  finds  fault  with  the  spelling  of  the 
name:  "  It  has  always  been  a  fly  in  my  ointment  that 
the  proper  names  in  that  noble  work  are  so  much  mis 
spelled  —  and  to  me  absurd.  '  Alessandro  '  is  not 
Spanish,  but  Italian.  It  ought  to  be  Alejandro.  No 
American  Indian,  I  am  sure,  ever  bore  the  other  name. 
'  Father  Salvierderra '  is  as  painful.  There  was  a 
Father  Zalvidea  among  the  Franciscan  Missionaries; 
but  this  seems  to  me  to  be  a  struggle  for  '  Salvatierra.'  ' 

The  Salvatierra  here  referred  to  was  one  of  the  noble 
army  of  Jesuit  missionaries  of  the  early  days  of  Span 
ish  colonization  in  Lower  California.  It  was  in  June, 
1680  that  he  came  fresh  from  his  studies  at  the  college 
in  the  city  of  Mexico  to  the  mountainous  tribes  of 
Northern  Sinaloa.  Soon  he  was  appointed  Visitador 
of  all  the  Jesuit  Missions  of  the  province,  and  in  the 
discharge  of  this  duty  he  met,  at  Mission  Dolores,  in 
1691  the  indefatigable  Father  Kino,  whose  plans  for 
the  Christianizing  of  the  Indians  were  far-reaching 
and  comprehensive.  Together  these  two  enthusiasts 
visited  Kino's  Missions,  possibly  as  far  north  as  our 
present  Arizona,  and  then  parted  only  after  agreeing  to 
meet  again  on  the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of  California,  from 
whence  they  would  cross  to  the  California  peninsula. 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      277 

In  1697  they  received  a  license  empowering  them  to 
attempt  the  Christianization  and  colonization  of 
Lower  California  at  their  own  expense,  and  as  soon  as 
funds  were  collected  they  embarked.  Of  the  noble 
work  done  there  Mr.  Arthur  North's  book  The  Mother 
of  California  fully  treats.  Suffice  it  here  to  state  that 
no  historian  has  ever  questioned  the  pure  disinterested 
ness  and  genuine  spiritual  zeal  of  Juan  Maria  Salva- 
tierra  in  his  undertakings.  His  was  a  pure  soul,  burn 
ing  with  desire  to  do  good  to  the  degraded  savages 
of  California,  and  he  stands  forth  as  one  of  the  greatest 
characters  in  early  (and  lower)  California  history. 

Father  Zalvidea,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  Francis 
can,  who  for  twenty  years,  1806  to  1826,  ruled  the 
destinies  of  Mission  San  Gabriel  Arcangel  near  Los 
Angeles.  He  was  by  no  means  the  original  of  the 
gentle,  sweet-spirited  padre  of  the  novel  Ramona,  for 
he  was  a  rigid  and  severe  disciplinarian.  He  had,  at 
one  time,  as  many  as  four  thousand  Indians  under  his 
control,  whom  he  fed,  clothed  and  taught,  and  the 
traditions  have  come  down  that  he  ruled  his  large 
family  with  a  rod  of  iron.  He  it  was  who  completed 
the  stone  church  still  standing  at  San  Gabriel;  the  saw 
mill  and  grist-mill  at  Wilson's  Lake;  brought  water  in 
ditches  from  beyond  Monrovia  from  the  San  Gabriel 
River  to  irrigate  the  hundreds  of  acres  of  field  crops,  or 
chards  and  vineyards ;  established  numerous  and  distinct 
mechanical  trades  amongst  the  Indians  to  manufacture 
or  prepare  for  market  the  products  of  flocks,  herds, 
fields  and  the  chase,  and  carried  on  a  large  business 


278   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

with  ships  of  all  nations  that  anchored  at  San  Pedro. 
His  efficient  mayor-domo,  Claudio  Lopez,  was  alive  in 
San  Gabriel  until  quite  recently,  and  delighted  in 
recalling  to  those  interested  the  stories  of  the  old  days 
when  the  Mission  was  at  its  height  of  influence  and 
power. 

There  is  no  doubt,  in  my  own  inind,  that  the  char 
acter  of  Salvierderra,  like  the  spelling  of  his  name,  was 
a  creation  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  own  mind,  only  she  suc 
ceeded  far  better  in  delineating  the  man  than  in  spell 
ing  his  name.  Sandham  tells  us  where  she  got  her  in 
spiration;  her  own  soul  saw  the  rest;  and  then,  with  a 
literary  skill  that  love  converted  into  genius,  she  drew 
the  picture  for  us  to  see  and  love. 

As  many  Protestants  will  doubtless  read  these  pages, 
it  will  not  be  deemed  out  of  place  if  I  give  a  brief  ex 
planation  as  to  who  the  Franciscans  are,  and  the 
Jesuits,  and  what  place  they  occupy  in  the  Catholic 
Church.  At  the  outset  let  it  be  understood  fully  that 
there  is  but  one  head  to  the  Catholic  Church.  That  is 
the  pope,  the  papa,  the  father,  of  all  the  faithful, —  as 
all  true  Catholics  are  called.  But  in  this  great  church, 
as  in  other  churches,  there  are  many  and  diverse  minds, 
all  seeking  the  common  good,  but  ready  and  anxious  to 
work  for  that  good  in  individualistic  ways.  This  in 
dividualistic  spirit  led,  in  the  fourth  century,  to  the 
founding  of  societies,  within  the  Church,  under  the  full 
control  of  the  head  of  the  Church, —  the  pope  —  each 
society  making  its  own  rules,  subject  to  the  pope's 
approval, 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      279 

In  rapid  succession  other  societies  were  founded, — 
all  with  the  full  permission  of  the  authorities,  until  the 
year  529,  when  Benedict,  a  Roman  noble,  founded  a 
monastery  near  Naples  and  there  formulated  his 
"  Rule,"  which  soon  became  the  model  for  all  monastic 
communities.  Early  in  the  thirteenth  century  Do 
mingo  de  Guzman,  a  Spaniard,  established  in  Langue- 
doc,  in  France,  an  order  which  he  named  the  Fratres 
Pr&dicatores,  or  preaching  friars.  The  rule  of  this 
order  enjoined  not  only  the  poverty,  obedience  and 
chastity  of  the  Benedictines,  but  also  fasting  and 
silence,  save  when  they  interfered  with  active  duty. 

About  the  same  time  Francis  of  Assisi  founded  his 
order,  later  to  receive  his  name,  and  be  known  as  the 
Franciscan  Order,  as  that  of  Domingo  was  called  the 
Order  of  Dominicans.  The  rule  of  both  orders  was 
confirmed  by  the  pope,  that  of  St.  Francis  in  I2IO  and 
again  in  1223,  and  that  of  St.  Dominic  in  I2l6.  The 
Franciscans  laid  special  stress  upon  preaching  and 
ministry  to  the  body  and  soul.  Both  orders  wore  a 
special  habit,  that  of  the  Dominicans  being  a  black 
mantle  with  a  white  habit  and  scapular  (hence  their 
common  English  name,  Black  Friars),  while  that  of  the 
Franciscans  is  a  gray  or  dark  brown,  with  a  white 
girdle.  They  also  wear  sandals.  They  are  known  as 
the  Gray  Friars  or  Barefooted  Friars. 

For  many  years  there  was  great  rivalry,  if  not 
jealousy,  between  these  two  orders,  though  there  was 
work  enough  for  each  to  do,  and  there  is  no  doubt  they 
both  accomplished  much  good. 


280   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

In  the  sixteenth  century,  a  new  and  powerful  order 
entered  the  field.  It  was  that  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
or  Jesuits,  founded  by  Ignatius  Loyola  in  1534,  and 
such  was  its  perfection  of  organization  and  discipline 
that  it  rapidly  bounded  into  high  favor.  There  are 
several  other  orders,  which,  however,  having  had 
nothing  to  do  with  California  history,  are  not  now 
referred  to. 

As  already  shown  the  Jesuits  were  the  first  to  engage 
in  Mission  work  on  California  soil,  they  having  estab 
lished  eighteen  Missions  among  the  Indians  of  Baja 
or  Lower  California  (on  the  peninsula)  from  1697  to 
1767.  In  this  latter  year  King  Carlos  III  of  Spain 
issued  his  famous  —  or,  as  many  regard  it,  infamous  — 
edict  against  the  Jesuits,  expelling  every  priest  of  that 
order  from  his  world-wide  dominions,  including  Lower 
California.  The  Franciscans,  who  still  basked  in  the 
royal  favor,  were  ordered  to  take  their  place  in  Lower 
California  and  also  advance  and  missionize  Alta  or 
Upper  California.  Junipero  Serra  was  unanimously 
chosen  to  be  the  padre  presidente  of  the  Mission  band 
sent  out  to  undertake  the  work,  and  it  was  under  this 
command  that,  during  the  years  1769-1823,  he  and 
his  successors  established  the  chain  of  twenty-one 
Missions,  reaching  from  San  Diego  on  the  south  to 
Sonoma  on  the  north.  To  protect  these  Missions 
from  attack  by  rebellious  Indians  or  foreign  invasion, 
four  presidios  or  military  establishments  were  founded, 
viz.,  at  San  Diego,  Santa  Barbara,  Monterey  and  San 
Francisco.  While  in  their  ecclesiastical  and  religious 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      281 

work  each  Mission  was  controlled  by  its  padres  (or 
priests)  who  were  answerable  solely  to  the  padre  presi- 
dente,  and  while  the  priests  had  full  control  of  all  tem 
poral  and  material  affairs  connected  with  their  respec 
tive  charges,  if  they  required  aid  from  the  military 
they  were  only  empowered  to  call  upon  the  command- 
antes  of  the  presidios  to  which  they  were  attached,  and 
in  all  military  matters  they  had  no  power  of  control. 
These  presidios  were  officered  and  soldiered  from  Spain 
and  Mexico,  and  the  salaries  of  these  men  were  sup 
posed  to  have  been  paid  from  the  national  treasury; 
but  in  the  later  days,  after  Mexico  had  severed  itself 
from  Spain,  the  Missions  were  often  called  upon  to 
contribute  grain  for  men  and  beasts,  hides  for  shoes, 
money  for  wages,  as  well  as  wine,  fruits,  vegetables, 
cattle,  cheese  and  other  foods  for  the  tables  of  the 
soldiery. 

There  have  been  many  foolish,  mendacious  and 
irresponsible  statements  made  by  prejudiced  or  igno 
rant  writers,  caught  up  and  repeated  by  equally  ignorant 
readers,  for  the  mere  sensation  of  the  moment,  regard 
less  of  the  injury  such  reckless  statements  produce,  to 
the  effect  that  the  Missions  were  great  money-making 
establishments  of  which  the  priests  got  the  benefit, 
while  the  Indians  were  held  in  a  kind  of  peonage  or 
bondage.  Farther,  that  when  the  temporal  power 
over  the  respective  Missions  was  taken  away  from  the 
priests,  many  of  them  fled  to  Mexico  and  Spain  with 
vast  purses  of  gold  they  had  secretly  been  hoarding 
up  for  years. 


282   THROUGH  RAMON  A' S  COUNTRY 

The  absurdity  of  these  assertions  should  have  been 
their  own  answer,  but,  unfortunately,  prejudices  are 
as  potent  to-day  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  women  as 
they  were  in  the  dark  ages.  Many  people  will  believe 
anything  of  a  Catholic  priest  on  the  word  of  an  individ 
ual  whose  word  on  many  matters  would  not  be  con 
sidered  reliable.  To  any  one  familiar  with  the  vows 
and  history  of  these  Mission  padres  no  refutation  of 
these  statements  is  necessary.  Each  priest,  enter 
ing  the  Franciscan  Order,  takes  a  perpetual  vow  of 
obedience,  poverty  and  chastity.  He  needs  no  money 
for  himself,  has  no  use  for  it,  as  there  is  nothing  he  can 
spend  it  on.  His  clothes  are  chosen  for  him,  and  he 
can  wear  no  other,  his  food  is  provided  and  he  needs 
no  other.  Luxuries  in  their  rooms  are  forbidden,  and 
each  lives  so  openly  before  all  the  others  that,  though 
one  were  inclined  to  be  disobedient  and  disregard  his 
vows,  such  a  course  would  be  impossible. 

Then,  say  the  objectors,  what  became  of  the  pro 
ceeds  of  all  the  cattle-raising,  the  weaving,  the  farm 
ing,  the  wine-making,  the  tanning,  and  the  many 
industries  that  were  carried  on  at  the  Missions?  This 
is  a  more  subtle  and  misleading  question  than  on  the 
face  of  it  appears.  If  the  Missions  to-day  possessed 
herds  of  many  thousands  of  cattle  and  horses,  to-day 
had  armies  of  many  hundreds  of  Indians,  working 
without  wages,  making  blankets,  cloth,  leather,  sad 
dles,  harness,  soap,  confections,  bread,  shoes,  clothes, 
ironmongery,  baskets,  and  many  other  articles  of  use, 
ploughing,  sowing  and  reaping  thousands  of  acres  of 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      283 

barley,  oats,  wheat  and  corn,  cultivating  acres  of  vines 
and  making  thousands  of  gallons  of  wine,  growing 
large  orchards  of  olives  and  crushing  them  into  delicious 
olive  oil, —  I  say  if  these  things  were  being  done  to-day, 
with  the  great  population  of  whites  surrounding  the 
Missions  as  purchasers  of  these  products,  each  Mission 
would  soon  become  as  wealthy  as  the  owner  of  a  good 
diamond  mine.  And  this  is  the  effect  the  asking  of 
the  question  referred  to  has  upon  the  minds  of  the 
unthinking  and  ignorant.  They  do  not  have  the 
power  of  transferring  themselves  in  thought  to  the 
early  Mission  days  when  there  were  no  other  inhabi 
tants  in  California  than  the  Indians,  the  priests,  the 
few  soldiers  and  the  small  handful  of  colonists  who 
were  too  poor  to  purchase  anything  from  anybody. 
Later,  when  these  colonists  became  more  wealthy,  it 
was  because  they  raised  grain,  wine,  olive  oil,  cattle, 
horses,  etc.,  for  themselves.  They  had  no  need  to 
purchase  from  the  Missions,  for  they  were  in  exactly 
the  same  business  —  looked  at  from  this  material 
standpoint  —  as  were  the  Missions  themselves.  The 
fact  is  that  in  the  early  days  the  Mission  fathers  were 
often  reduced  to  such  straits  that  they  had  to  depend 
upon  the  Indians  for  food  necessary  to  sustain  life. 
As  their  material  condition  improved,  and  the  Indians 
were  trained  to  varied  labors,  there  was  no  market  for 
the  things  raised.  They  were  not  raised  for  market. 
They  were  raised  for  themselves.  Each  Mission  was  a 
self-supporting  community.  The  women  wove  blankets, 
material  for  their  own  dresses  and  for  the  clothes  of 


284   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  boys  and  men,  and  made  them  up.  The  herders 
of  sheep  and  cattle  needed  saddles.  Leather  was  re 
quired  for  the  shoes  of  all  who  wore  them,  and  the 
tanners  and  shoemakers  were  kept  busy  supplying 
the  needs  of  the  community. 

When,  occasionally,  a  trading  vessel  arrived  with 
goods  that  could  be  used  by  the  padres,  either  for  them 
selves  or  the  Mission  churches  or  the  Indians,  they 
traded  for  these  goods  with  such  articles  as  they  them 
selves  possessed.  Money,  doubtless,  often  passed  in 
such  transactions.  How  else  could  the  padres  have 
purchased  the  elegant  vestments,  the  ornaments  and 
other  things  needed  to  make  their  churches  and  the 
worship  conducted  therein  interesting  to  the  childish 
minds  of  the  Indian.  Thousands  of  dollars  were  ex 
pended  by  the  padres  in  these  things,  for  they  loved 
to  beautify  the  churches  for  their  own  enjoyment,  and 
they  knew  that  the  more  attractive  they  could  be 
made  the  more  effective  would  they  be  to  the 
Indians. 

When  the  military  authorities  became  financially 
distressed,  owing  to  their  failure  to  receive  remit 
tances  from  Mexico,  the  padres  gladly  contributed  of 
their  substance  to  aid  the  soldiers  whose  duty  it  was 
to  defend  them,  just  as  peasantry  will  aid  one  another 
during  a  time  of  famine;  and  if  they  had  been  suc 
cessful  in  selling  some  of  their  produce,  and  were  care 
fully  hoarding  up  every  cent  to  purchase  some  needed 
article  for  the  improvement  of  worship  in  their  churches, 
they  sacrificed  their  own  feelings  by  contributing  these 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      285 

sums  of  money  to  the  more  immediate  and  urgent 
needs  of  the  soldiery.  Hence,  instead  of  these  things 
being  held  against  the  padres  as  offences,  they  should 
lead  us  to  revere  them  the  more. 

As  to  the  'sending  of  money  to  the  mother  house 
of  the  Franciscan  Order  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  it  is 
stated  authoritatively,  on  honor,  that  not  even  a  curio 
has  ever  been  received  there  from  California. 

Whatever  money  was  raised  was  expended  on  the 
spot  for  the  benefit  of  the  Indians,  either  in  the  beau- 
tification  of  the  Mission  churches,  or  in  the  purchase 
of  goods  for  their  use.  Occasionally,  in  times  of  stress, 
one  Mission  would  contribute  to  the  necessities  of 
another. 

Another  question  that  is  often  asked  by  visitors  to 
the  Missions  is:  Why  is  it,  when  the  Missions  were 
doing  so  much  good,  they  were  allowed  to  go  to  wrack 
and  ruin?  This  is  a  far  more  important  and  elaborate 
question  to  answer  than  appears  on  the  face  of  it.  In 
brief,  here  it  is,  and  I  refer  the  reader  to  my  book 
on  the  Missions  or  the  larger  historical  works  of  Hubert 
Howe  Bancroft  for  a  full  and  complete  discussion  of  the 
subject.  When  the  Missions  were  originally  estab 
lished  it  was  the  avowed  intention  of  the  King  and  his 
advisers  that,  after  the  Indians  had  been  duly  Chris 
tianized  and  trained  by  the  padres  in  the  ways  of  civi 
lization,  they  should  be  removed  from  under  their  care 
and  given  the  right  of  individual  citizenship.  This 
fact  must  not  be  forgotten,  as  it  was  the  chief  weapon 
in  the  hands  of  those  who  demoralized  the  Missions 


286   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

and  argued  that  the  Indians  had  been  under  the  con 
trol  of  the  padres  long  enough. 

Here  the  question  arises:  How  long  does  it  take  to 
elevate  a  degraded  and  heathen  race  from  barbarism 
to  Christian  civilization?  As  far  as  I  can  learn  it 
took  several  centuries  to  perform  this  miracle  for  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race,  and  the  job  is  not  yet  completed, 
vide  our  whisky-shops,  assignation-houses,  gambling- 
dens,  slums,  prisons,  penitentiaries,  patent  medicines, 
armies,  navies,  adulterated  foods  and  the  like.  Yet 
the  padres  —  without  the  refining  influences  of  good 
women  —  were  expected  to  make  the  change  among 
these  California  Indians  in.  a  few  generations.  They 
certainly  worked  wonders  to  accomplish  what  they 
did  in  so  short  a  time,  and  the  Mission  buildings  stand 
as  a  marvellous  tribute  to  their  power,  for  the  main 
work  upon  all  of  them  was  done  by  these  same  savage 
Indians. 

After  Mexico  was  severed  from  Spain,  Santa  Anna, 
the  dictator,  was  short  of  money  and  he  set  the  ex 
ample  to  his  followers  by  "  borrowing  "  the  "  Pious 
Fund  "  for  "  governmental  purposes,"  giving  its 
holders  in  exchange  certain  bonds  which  were  guar 
anteed  to  bear  five  per  cent,  annual  interest.  This 
"  Pious  Fund  "  consisted  of  real  estate  and  other 
securities  which  had  been  donated  by  generous  sons 
and  daughters  of  Mother  Church  for  the  express  pur 
pose  of  aiding  in  the  work  of  Christianizing  the  Indians 
of  the  Calif ornias  — Baja  and  Alia  (Lower  and  Upper). 
Santa  Anna  failed  to  pay  the  interest  promised,  hence 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      287 

his  borrowing  became  in  reality  a  confiscation.  Here 
was  an  elevated  example  for  vulture  politicians  to 
follow.  Professing  to  act  upon  the  original  intention 
of  King  Carlos  that  the  Indians  should  become  citizens, 
they  passed  bills  in  the  national  legislature  of  Mexico 
and  in  the  provincial  legislature  of  California  author 
izing  the  appointing  of  comisionados  whose  business  it 
was  to  take  over  the  temporal  concerns  of  the  church 
from  the  padres,  partition  the  Mission  lands  among 
the  Indians,  and  then  invest  the  latter  with  all  the 
rights  and  responsibilities  of  citizenship.  All  this 
sounded  well  in  speeches  on  the  floors  of  the  legislative 
halls,  but  the  fine-sounding  phrases  were  but  intended 
to  tickle  the  ears  of  the  people,  while  the  plunderers 
(modern  grafters!)  perpetrated  their  nefarious  schemes. 
Had  the  thing  been  done  honestly,  as  it  might  have 
been,  it  would  have  required  a  score  of  years  or  more 
properly  to  carry  out  the  plan.  There  was  but  one 
wise  and  legitimate  way,  however,  in  my  humble  esti 
mation,  by  which  this  could  have  been  accomplished. 
That  would  have  been  by  giving  the  padres  warning 
and  notice  that  the  State  would  require  from  them  in 
twenty  years  (or  whatever  time  was  mutually  agreed 
upon)  a  statement  setting  forth  the  facts  that  every 
Mission  Indian  family  or  person  had  been  allotted  his 
proper  quota  of  land,  that  those  Indians  entitled  to 
citizenship  were  so  and  so  (presenting  their  names), 
and  that  certain  lands  (as  agreed  upon),  had  been  set 
apart  as  an  endowment  for  the  church.  This  would 
have  given  the  padres  time  to  bring  about  the  needful 


288   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

change  healthfully.  But  the  politicians  did  not  want 
the  change  to  come  in  that  way.  It  was  only  by 
removing  the  Indians  from  under  the  watchful  and 
fatherly  care  of  the  padres  that  these  scoundrels  could 
plunder  the  trustful  and  guileless  natives.  We  have 
seen  a  somewhat  similar  procedure,  several  times, 
under  our  own  enlightened  (!!!)  administration,  a 
procedure  that  seems  to  have  been  especially  designed 
and  formulated  to  aid  swindlers,  thieves,  corrupt 
politicians,  lawyers,  land-grabbers  and  all-round 
scoundrels  to  rob  the  helpless  and  childlike  Indians 
of  all  they  possessed. 

Here  was  the  way  the  scheme  of  secularization 
actually  worked.  The  commissioner  took  charge  of 
all  the  herds  of  cattle,  every  single  head  of  the  horses, 
all  the  sheep,  every  single  acre  of  land,  save  and  except 
enough  for  a  kitchen  garden  for  the  priest.  He  then 
sold  the  live  stock,  etc.,  and  divided  the  proceeds 
among  the  Indians,  after  having  apportioned  to  each 
person  or  family  its  due  proportion  of  the  land.  But 
there  was  no  check  kept  upon  his  sales  or  the  prices 
obtained,  and  herds  were  sacrificed  or  simply  given 
away  in  exchange  for  political  favors,  and,  as  soon  as 
the  Indians  came  into  legal  possession  of  their  lands, 
they  were  hoodwinked  out  of  them  as  quickly  and  as 
skilfully  as  the  thimble  riggers  and  the  gold -brick 
sellers  of  the  city  swindle  the  countrymen. 

The  moral  degeneration  of  the  Indians  was  even 
worse  than  their  physical  and  material  demoralization. 
To  get  the  better  of  them  they  were  inducted  into 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS       289 

every  kind  of  besotting  vice,  and  while  under  these 
damnable  influences  their  ruin  was  accomplished. 
There  is  nothing  more  horrible  in  the  history  of  all 
civilization  than  the  true  story  of  how  the  Indians 
of  California  were  swept  with  the  besom  of  destruction 
down  the  slippery  road  to  hell. 

But,  you  ask,  where  were  the  padres  while  this  was 
going  on?  Why  did  they  not  exercise  some  restraining 
influence  over  their  former  charges? 

Therein  is  one  of  the  most  fearful  counts  in  the  in 
dictment  against  the  secularizing  politicians.  They 
absolutely  deprived  the  padres  of  all  lands,  all  herds, 
all  sources  of  income.  At  one  stroke  they  threw  them 
on  their  own  resources.  The  Indians  were  inflamed 
against  them  by  demagogues  who  prated  to  them  of 
their  long  slavery  and  bondage  and  who  aroused  their 
basest  physical  passions  with  unlimited  aguardiente. 
Without  means  of  support  of  the  poorest  kind,  what 
was  there  left  to  these  saddened  and  broken-hearted 
men,  but  to  acknowledge  their  defeat  and  retire  from 
the  field. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  for  thirteen  years 
prior  to  the  military  invasion  of  California,  when 
Fremont,  Sloat,  Stockton  and  Kearny  took  possession 
of  the  country  for  the  United  States,  the  Missions  were 
rapidly  on  the  decline.  When  the  last  governor,  Pio 
Pico,  saw  that  the  overthrow  of  Mexican  rule  in  Cal 
ifornia  was  inevitable,  he  hurried  to  make  whatever 
advantage  he  could  for  himself  by  aiding  in  this  dis 
reputable  work.  Even  Mission  buildings  were  sold 


29o   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

for  a  mere  song,  and  the  small  acreage  that  had  been 
retained  for  the  Church  was  bartered  away  for  a  mess 
of  pottage.  The  result  was  that  when  the  Catholic 
Church  began  to  reorganize  its  forces  under  the  new, 
or  United  States  regime,  in  several  cases  it  was  found 
that  aliens  and  strangers  held  title  not  only  to  the 
lands  of  the  Missions,  but  even  to  the  Mission  churches 
themselves.  In  some  cases  suits  were  brought  against 
the  holders  in  the  courts,  and  in  others  possession 
was  obtained  by  friendly  intercession.  Even  to-day 
some  of  the  Mission  churches  are  owned  by  outsiders, — 
as  at  San  Fernando  and  La  Purisima  Concepcion,  and 
also,  until  purchased  by  W.  R.  Hearst  for  the  Cali 
fornia  Historical  Landmarks  League  of  San  Francisco, 
Solano  (at  Sonoma)  and  San  Antonio  de  Padua. 

In  Southern  California,  under  the  enthusiastic  and 
efficient  leadership  of  Charles  F.  Lummis,  the  present 
librarian  of  Los  Angeles,  the  Landmarks  Club  has 
leased  certain  Missions  and  obtained  control  of  others 
and  $8,000.00  have  been  collected  by  popular  sub 
scription  (owing  to  appeals  made  in  his  magazine, 
Out  West),  and  wisely  expended,  not  in  restoring  the 
Missions,  but  in  preserving  and  safeguarding  them 
against  further  destruction  by  the  weather  and  by 
the  insane  vandalism  of  treasure  hunters  and  souvenir 
collectors. 

At  two  of  the  Missions  in  Southern  California,  San 
Luis  Rey  and  Santa  Barbara,  the  Franciscans  have 
established  communities.  The  Jesuit  order  now  con 
trols  the  Mission  of  Santa  Clara,  and  has  there 


Franciscans  ploughing  at  Santa  Barbara 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  295 


Bringing  in  the  cows  at  Santa  Barbara 
Copyright  by  G.  P.  Thresher,  Los  Angeles 

Page  298 


Franciscans  shelling  peas,  at  Santa  Barbara 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  295 


Feeding  the  chickens  at  Santa   Barbara 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  298 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS     291 

established  a  college  of  a  high  order  for  the  education 
of  boys  and  young  men. 

The  Franciscans  control  Santa  Barbara,  and  a  com 
munity  of  priests,  fratres  and  lay  brothers  now  occupy 
the  quarters  once  used  by  the  old  Mission  fratres  and 
their  dusky  flock.  Community  life  is  not  a  new 
idea.  Sages,  statesmen  and  philanthropists  of  all 
ages  have  tried  to  compass  it  and  have  generally  failed. 
Plato,  Aristotle,  Sir  Thomas  More,  Ruskin,  Robert 
Dale  Owen  and  others  have  outlined  what  such  a  com 
munity  should  be,  and  in  New  England,  California  and 
elsewhere  attempts  to  found  ideal  communities  have 
been  tried  without  success.  Bellamy  makes  the 
nation  a  vast  community,  but  even  the  most  fav 
orably  disposed  of  his  critics  must  recognize  the  ideal 
ism  of  his  Looking  Backward. 

A  community  established  upon  individualism  is 
almost  certain  to  fail  beforehand.  Where  ten,  a  score, 
forty  people  have  a  hand  in  the  management,  diver 
sities  will  crop  up  that  will  ultimately  become  irre 
concilable.  Then  will  inevitably  follow  disorganiza 
tion  and  disaster. 

Men  are  not  yet  so  attuned  to  individuality  that 
they  can  bear  with  equanimity  any  other  individuality 
than  their  own.  We  are  all  to  a  greater  or  lesser  degree 
Torquemadas  or  Dantes.  We  cannot  affiliate  with 
those  whose  religious  and  social  opinions  are  opposed 
to  our  own.  We  would  all  ostracise  from  our  circles, 
our  clubs,  our  churches,  our  towns,  those  who  think  and 
act  in  marked  variance  to  our  own  "  thinks"  and  acts. 


292   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Man  must  develop  much,  and  woman  more,  ere  the 
world  will  be  ready  to  allow  to  every  man,  to  every 
woman,  real  freedom.  The  Baptist  could  seldom  be 
happy  with  the  Catholic,  or  the  Methodist  with  the 
Theosophist,  and  all  four  are  at  sword's  points  with 
the  Christian  Scientist,  the  Mormon,  the  Spiritualist 
and  the  Confucianite.  I  know  a  "  republican  "  who 
refused  to  attend  his  church  because  its  pastor  was  a 
political  prohibitionist.  Freedom  of  thought  is  as 
yet  a  name.  We  are  far  from  having  attained  to  it  as 
a  Nation.  And  this  is  the  secret  of  all  community 
failures. 

There  are  but  two  methods  on  which  a  community 
can  successfully  be  conducted.  These  are  definitely 
opposed  methods.  One  is  that  of  the  most  absolute 
freedom, —  the  individualism  of  the  highest  social  state 
and  culture,  which  as  freely  recognizes  the  individual 
ism  of  others  as  it  does  the  right  to  free  air  and  sight. 
The  other  is  that  of  a  purely  autocratic  government, 
where  there  is  one  guiding  and  controlling  head  to 
which  all  others  yield  unquestioned  obedience.  The 
former  method,  as  I  have  already  stated,  the  world  is 
not  yet  prepared  for;  the  latter  is,  and  has  been  in 
existence  for  many  years.  It  is  one  of  the  necessities 
of  some  minds  that  they  yield  up  their  individual  will 
to  some  stronger  mind.  Especially  is  this  so  in  relig 
ion  and  war.  The  Catholic  Church  is  based  upon  this 
readiness  of  the  human  mind  to  yield  to  authority  in 
spiritual  affairs,  and  within  its  fold,  as  I  have  already 
shown,  are  several  orders,  the  superiors  of  which 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      293 

demand  and  receive  the  most  implicit  obedience  from 
all  the  members. 

Who  does  not  know,  or  know  of,  Santa  Barbara? 
The  quaint  old  town,  rapidly  becoming  modernized, 
dedicated  to  the  sweet  virgin  saint  and  martyr?  It 
passed  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  seculariza 
tion  era,  but  fortunately  was  never  alienated  from 
the  possession  of  the  Church.  In  1853  the  Mission 
was  erected  into  an  Hospice,  as  the  beginning  of  an 
Apostolic  College  for  the  Education  of  Franciscan 
novices.  In  1885  it  was  made  a  part  of  the  Province 
of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  the  headquarters  of  which 
are  in  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Hence  it  will  be  seen  that  it  is  an  almost  independent 
community,  two  thousand  miles  or  more  from  its 
head,  and  required  to  be  entirely  self-supporting  and 
self -con  trolled,  in  the  latter,  however,  subject  to  gen 
eral  directions  from  the  Provincial  Head.  There  are 
now  about  thirty-two  persons  in  all  in  the  community, 
six  of  whom  are  priests,  sixteen  clerics  or  fratres  and 
novices  and  ten  lay  brothers.  The  clerics  are  those 
who  have  taken  the  Franciscan  vows  of  chastity, 
poverty,  and  obedience,  and  are  preparing  for  the 
priesthood.  After  a  certain  number  of  years  of  study 
they  are  duly  ordained  and  they  then  become  priests. 
The  lay  brothers  are  simple,  godly  men  who  take  the 
same  vows  as  the  priests,  and  then  place  themselves 
under  the  control  of  their  superiors  to  do  whatever 
work  is  assigned  to  them. 

The   local   government   is   practically   vested    in   a 


294   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

padre  presidente,  or  guardian,  who  allots  to  each  man 
his  work.  As  near  as  possible,  it  is  the  intention  of  the 
Franciscans  to  make  each  community  self-supporting. 
Therefore,  all  necessary  farming,  gardening  and  all 
the  work  of  a  large  household  of  the  olden  time  is 
done  by  the  members  of  the  fraternity.  Those  who 
need  the  major  part  of  their  time  for  study  or  devotion 
are  called  upon  for  little  work;  others  spend  most  of 
their  time  in  labor.  To  one  has  been  allotted  for  years 
the  work  of  showing  visitors  around  the  Mission,  and 
when  many  visitors  arrive  others  are  detailed  to  give 
him  assistance.  One  member  of  the  Franciscan  order, 
Father  Zephyrin  Knglehardt,  was  found  to  have  an 
aptitude  for  the  study  and  formulation  of  history,  so 
for  several  years  he  has  been  engaged  in  travel  for 
observation  of  the  Missions,  search  of  the  old  records, 
study  and  translation  of  them,  arrangement  and 
translation  of  letters  and  documents  found  in  the 
Mission  and  Church  archives,  and  in  the  writing  of  a 
large  and  comprehensive  history  (in  three  volumes) 
of  the  Missions  of  Baja  and  A  Ita,  California.  While 
the  rigid  rule  of  the  order  of  Franciscans  requires 
that  each  member  implicitly  obey  his  superior,  and 
that,  under  the  domination  of  an  evil  man,  this  might 
result  in  oppression  and  injustice,  the  practical  work 
ing  out  of  the  system  really  gives  to  each  man  large 
choice  as  to  his  calling  or  work.  Every  man's  capacity 
and  taste  are  consulted,  and  the  community  is  more 
like  a  large  and  happy  family  than  a  gathering  together 
of  gloomy,  ascetic  men  who  have  cast  out  all  thought 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      295 

of  the  joys  and  happinesses  of  life.  Of  course  no 
woman  is  engaged  about  the  place.  Yet  it  is  a  hive 
of  industry.  In  olden  days  the  Indians  wove  blankets 
and  cloth,  and  performed  all  the  other  tasks  set  them 
by  the  padres;  now  the  priests  and  lay  brothers  do 
all  the  work  themselves.  It  is  by  no  means  an  uncom 
mon  expression  "  that  lazy  monk,"  yet  the  accom 
panying  pictures  show  these  Franciscans  at  their 
regular  occupations.  Some  of  them  are  farmers,  not 
gentlemen  farmers  (as  the  English  say),  but  actual, 
real  farmers,  who  take  hold  of  the  plough,  guide  the 
harrow,  run  the  mowing  machine,  shock  the  hay  and 
stow  it  away  in  the  barn.  On  one  of  my  visits  I  found 
the  friars  clearing  a  piece  of  ground  and  ploughing  it 
for  the  first  time.  There  were  many  large  rocks  in 
it,  which  required  crowbar  and  pick  to  remove.  The 
day  was  warm  and  a  Franciscan's  gown  is  heavy  and 
each  man  sweat  copiously  as  he  vigorously  attacked 
his  work.  Laughingly  I  called  them  "  lazy  monks  " 
and  said  I  wished  to  picture  their  laziness  to  the  world. 
There  was  no  posing.  Each  man  worked  straight 
along  and  when  I  was  ready  to  expose  the  plate  I 
called  out  "  Remain  as  you  are,"  the  cap  was  removed, 
and  at  my  "  Thank  you!  "  they  resumed. 

In  the  "  good  old  days  "  of  the  Missions,  the  lands 
for  miles  were  practically  under  the  control  of  the 
padres,  in  the  interest  of  their  wards,  the  Indians. 
But  the  order  of  secularization  left  them  a  very 
limited  number  of  acres.  Every  part  of  this  they 
keep  well  under  cultivation.  Not  only  do  they  grow 


296   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

grain,  but  they  have  olives,  oranges,  pears,  peaches, 
plums,  apricots,  prunes,  guavas,  loquats,  almonds, 
apples  and  other  fruits.  In  the  vegetable  garden 
everything  conceivable  is  produced,  from  sweet  pota 
toes  to  strawberries. 

In  this  cultivation  of  the  ground  and  production  of 
food  is  one  of  the  chief  reliances  of  a  community. 
Raise  all  you  need  for  food,  and  living  expenses  are 
then  reduced  to  the  minimum.  Not  only  that:  raise 
your  own  food  and  you  are  apt  to  see  that  it  is  good 
and  healthful.  There  will  be  no  dangerous  luxuries. 
Quaint  old  Dr.  Abernethy  took  hold  of  one  of  the 
principles  of  healthful  life  when  he  advised  a  rich 
patient  to  "  Live  on  sixpence  a  day  and  earn  it." 
Physical  labor  out-of-doors  is  an  almost  sure  guarantee 
of  reasonable  health.  Physical  labor,  especially  when 
performed  in  the  open  in  such  a  genial  climate  as  that 
of  California,  is  the  assured  way  to  health.  And 
there  is  a  joy  in  the  accomplishment  of  real  labor 
that  the  exerciser  for  mere  pleasure  can  never  know. 
These  monks,  though  many  of  them  are  theological 
students,  need  no  gymnasium  with  an  expensive  and 
elaborate  outfit  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  them  to 
take  the  exercise  that  is  essential  to  a  healthful  body 
and  a  well-balanced  brain.  No!  They  believe  in  the 
dignity  and  good  of  real  labor,  and  each  one  does  a 
full  share  of  it  daily. 

One  of  their  duties  is  to  keep  the  old  Mission  church 
in  order,  and  this  requires  much  and  varied  work. 
Not  only  must  the  grounds  be  kept  clear  of  weeds,  but 


Brother  Eugene  and  some  of  his  wood- carving  at  Santa  Barbara 
Photo  by  deorge  Wharton  James 

Page  297 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      297 

the  ordinary  cleansing  —  scrubbing,  dusting,  etc.  —  of 
the  interior  is  done  by  them.  They  also  keep  the 
walls  in  order,  repairing  them,  whitewashing,  plaster 
ing,  cementing  when  necessary. 

They  are  also  experts  with  the  saw,  and  one  of  the  his 
toric  treasures  of  the  Mission  is  an  ancient  cross-cut 
saw  which  bears  evidence  of  heavy  use  when  the  Mis 
sion  was  still  young.  The  wood -pile  is  an  excellent 
gymnasium.  If  men  with  sedentary  occupations  could 
be  induced  to  believe  that  the  use  of  the  cross-cut  or 
buck-saw  assures  more  physical  blessings  than  is  possible 
to  secure  from  gymnasium  or  golf,  it  would  soon  be  res 
cued  from  the  category  of  "menial"  labors  and  restored 
to  its  pristine  dignity  and  place  of  honor. 

Bee  culture  also  engages  their  attention.  Last 
year  they  secured  some  seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
of  honey  from  their  bee  stands.  One  brother  has 
charge  and  goes  to  and  fro  caring  for  them  and  occa 
sionally  hiving  them,  as  needs  arise.  With  net,  mask, 
and  gloves  he  takes  the  honey  when  the  proper  time 
arrives,  and  this  becomes  one  of  the  food  luxuries  the 
friars  are  allowed  to  indulge  in. 

On  one  of  my  visits  a  hive  of  bees  "  swarmed."  The 
f rater  was  ready  and  without  trouble  "  hived  "  them. 
With  a  long  canvas  bag,  weighted  down  so  as  to  keep 
it  straight,  and  swinging  suspended  from  a  heavy  iron 
prong  at  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  he  was  able  to  cover 
the  swarm,  shake  the  branch  and  so  secure  the  excited 
and  humming  little  creatures  and  place  them  where 
he  desired. 


298   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

It  is  biblical  to  associate  honey  and  milk,  so  these 
friars  are  biblical.  They  have  cows,  for  which  they 
personally  care,  taking  them  to  pasture  and  bringing 
them  in  at  night,  doing  all  the  milking,  churning  and 
butter  making.  If  the  cows  have  been  used  to  singing 
milkmaids  they  find  little  difference  in  the  monks, 
for  their  long  gowns  are  only  a  little  more  somber  and 
rough,  as  perhaps  also  are  their  voices  when  they 
"  sing  to  make  the  milk  come." 

Though  by  no  means  vegetarians  the  monks  at  Santa 
Barbara  are  not  great  meat  eaters.  Eggs,  therefore, 
of  their  own  raising,  are  a  desirable  addition  to  their 
dietary.  Hence  they  have  plenty  of  chickens,  and 
one  brother  finds  the  time  he  can  spare  from  other 
work  well  occupied  in  caring  for  "  setting  "  hens, 
attending  to  young  broods  of  chickens,  and  breaking 
the  desire  of  those  hens  who  have  a  persistent  mania 
for  endeavoring  to  hatch  out  an  old  door  knob  or  a 
porcelain  egg.  I  am  not  able  to  vouch  for  the  brother's 
gentleness  and  patience  with  the  persistent  hen;  I 
can  but  judge  from  his  general  appearance,  and  I  feel 
safe  in  asserting  that  his  treatment  in  all  cases  will  be 
most  firm,  tempered  with  sympathizing  kindness. 
The  chickens  evidently  know  his  voice.  When  I 
called  them  they  scattered,  but  when  they  heard  him 
they  ran  and  flocked  around  him  fearless,  unafraid 
and  expectant. 

In  such  a  community  as  this  there  is  necessarily 
much  blacksmithing.  Horses  are  to  be  shod,  ploughs 
and  other  farming  implements  repaired,  and  all  the 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      299 

odd  jobs  done  that  make  a  blacksmith's  shop  on  a 
large  and  isolated  farm  imperative.  So  here  are  the 
forge  and  the  anvil  and  the  blacksmiths.  The  black 
smith  is  recognized  as  an  all-round  genius.  He  can 
turn  his  hand  to  many  things  and  do  them  all  well. 
His  assistant  is  a  burly,  well-muscled  brother,  and 
when  both  are  at  work,  sparks  flying  and  the 
chink  of  hammer  and  sledge  merrily  ringing  through 
the  air,  there  is  no  onlooker  but  would  hear  the 
words  "lazy  monks"  with  scorn  and  laughter.  These 
monks  have  no  time  for  laziness.  Their  duties 
are  laid  out  for  them,  hour  by  hour,  and  they  are 
kept  steadily  at  work  from  "  early  morn  to  dewy 
eve." 

The  blacksmith  is  also  the  basket-maker  for  the 
community.  He  is  not  a  maker  of  fine  baskets,  as  were 
the  Indians  of  Santa  Barbara  a  century  ago, —  those 
fine  works  of  art  so  perfect  in  form,  stitch,  design 
and  color  that  to-day  they  are  almost  priceless,  —  yet 
he  makes  a  basket  that  is  strong,  durable  and  emi 
nently  practical.  Sitting  by  the  side  of  the  fountain 
in  the  old  Mission  garden,  its  gentle  splash  murmur 
ing  in  his  ears,  and  the  sweet  odors  of  a  thousand 
fragrant  flowers  tickling  his  olfactory  nerves,  the  re 
ligious  basket-maker  takes  two  small  barrel  staves,  and 
binds  them  with  willows  at  right  angles  to  each  other. 
Then  after  forming  his  web  by  securing  strong  willows 
in  place  across  the  portion  he  intends  to  make  into  the 
basket  proper,  he  works  in  the  weft,  "  slewing  "  or 
"  waleing,"  as  the  necessity  of  the  shape  demands,  and, 


300   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

after  wrapping  willows  around  the  handle,  the  basket  is 
complete. 

The  Mission  garden  at  Santa  Barbara  is  famed  for 
the  rich  beauty  and  fragrance  of  its  flowers  and  also 
for  its  rigid  exclusion  of  the  gentler  sex.  It  is  con 
trary  to  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Franciscan 
order  that  a  woman  shall  enter  the  "  closed  "  pre 
cincts,  just  as  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  enter  the 
"closed"  portion  of  a  convent  of  cloistered  nuns. 
Only  two  women  have  been  permitted  to  override  this 
interdiction,  and  these  were  especially  honored  visitors: 
one  was  the  wife  of  President  Harrison,  and  the  other 
the  Princess  Louise,  daughter  of  England's  queen  and 
wife  of  the  Governor  General  of  Canada. 

In  what  I  have  recounted  of  the  work  performed,  the 
list  is  not  completed  of  the  outdoor  occupations  of 
this  religious  community.  Sewer  pipes,  water  pipes, 
etc.  are  to  be  laid,  together  with  masonry,  brick-laying, 
cement-work,  carpentering,  repair  of  fences,  and  every 
thing  that  must  be  done  on  a  large  farm.  All  this  is 
accomplished  without  outside  help.  If  new  work  is 
to  be  done  the  friars  learn  to  do  it  by  doing  it.  Ex 
perience  is  their  main  teacher,  and  necessity  to  them 
is  not  only  the  mother  of  invention,  but  the  com- 
peller  of  knowledge. 

Their  indoor  life  is  as  varied  and  interesting  as  is 
that  of  the  out-of-doors.  Of  their  studies  little  need 
be  said.  They  have  regular  class-room  work  as  have 
other  schools.  Divinity,  philosophy,  the  sciences, 
art,  homiletics,  history  and  all  the  various  studies  that 


the  vegetable  garden,  Santa  Barbara  Mission, 
Photo  by  Howard  C.  Tibbitts 

Page  296 


Cultivating  in  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission  garden 
Copyright  by  Geo.  P.  Thresher,  Los  Angeles 

Page  295 


I 


7n  the  blacksmith  shop  at  Santa  Barbara 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  299 


A  monk's  bedroom  at  Santa  Barbara 
Photo  by  C.  C.  Pierce  &  Co.,  Los  Angeles 

Page  301 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS     301 

go  to  the  education  of  a  priest  are  theirs.  They  have 
a  library  that  would  astonish  many  disbelievers  in 
their  faith.  While  there  are  books  in  abundance 
on  dogmatic  and  moral  theology  and  apologetics,  there 
are  the  historians,  the  poets  and  novelists  that  many  a 
good  Protestant  would  regard  as  profane  and  lax. 
Shelley,  Byron,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Dickens,  Thackeray, 
George  Eliot,  and  many  another  are  to  be  found  there, 
and  the  condition  of  the  books  shows  clearly  that  they 
receive  a  fair  share  of  use  in  "  recreation  time." 

In  the  corridored  building  by  the  side  of  the  church 
are  class-rooms  for  study  and  also  the  bedrooms  or 
"  cells  "  of  the  priests.  These  open  off  from  a  long  hall 
which  extends  from  one  end  of  the  building  to  the 
other.  At  one  end  of  this  hall  is  an  altar  and  on  the 
walls  are  some  of  the  old  Mission  pictures  of  saints, 
angels,  archangels,  popes,  bishops  and  churches  that 
were  brought  from  Spain  or  Mexico  over  a  century  ago. 
Here,  however,  is  no  luxury  or  needless  adornment. 
No  rich  carpets  cover  the  floor,  or  expensive  decora 
tions  charm  the  eye.  All  is  simple,  plain,  inexpensive 
but  scrupulously  clean.  The  fratres  are  their  own 
housekeepers,  and  while  there  are  none  of  those  evi 
dences  of  womanly  refinement  that  are  so  pleasing  to, 
and  so  expected  by,  the  man  of  family  in  the  home, 
everything  is  as  spotless  as  if  the  most  rigorous 
female  housekeeper  had  personally  superintended  its 
keeping  in  order. 

When  one  steps  into  the  bedrooms  the  same  plain, 
unadorned,  stern  simplicity  is  observed.  Bare  walls, 


302   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

except  for  one  or  two  pictures  of  saints,  a  crucifix  and 
the  like;  bare  floors,  even  by  the  bedside;  bare  ceiling, 
—  that  is,  the  rafters  and  shingle  boards  are  exposed ; 
the  windows  are  curtainless,  the  table  coverless,  and 
the  chairs  cushionless,  except  for  the  aged  and  infirm 
fathers  or  brothers  and  for  guests.  The  coverlet  on 
the  bed  is  home-made  and  of  dark  material,  and  nothing 
but  the  "  necessities  "  are  in  evidence.  Yet  the  rooms 
are  clean,  well  lighted  by  the  sun  and  healthful. 

But  who  clothes  all  this  household?  Is  a  French 
tailor  imported  to  keep  up  with  the  fashions  in  dress? 
Ah!  no!  There  is  but  one  fashion  in  the  Franciscan 
costume,  and  that  has  not  changed  through  the  ages. 
The  rough,  brown  serge  habit,  with  the  white  cotton 
waist  cord  and  a  pair  of  sandals,  is  the  prescribed 
dress,  and  all  work  on  it,  save  the  making  of  the  serge 
and  the  leather,  is  done  here  by  the  friars  themselves. 
The  serge  is  purchased  from  an  Eastern  factory.  The 
friars  cut  out  the  garments  and  are  experts  on  the 
sewing  machine.  One  room  is  devoted  to  this  work 
and  the  tailor,  assisted  by  allotted  brothers,  performs 
it  as  needed.  All  repairing  is  also  done  here,  and  cer 
tain  brothers  are  expert  patchers  and  darners. 

In  another  room  one  of  the  brothers  makes  the  cot 
ton  cords  for  the  waist.  The  appliance  is  of  the  sim 
plest  and  yet  most  ingenious  and  effective  character. 
It  is  a  kind  of  double  circular  heddle,  the  upper  heddle 
being  perhaps  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter,  through 
which  the  warp  cords  are  threaded.  This  upper  heddle 
is  bolted  to  a  lower  and  much  larger  one,  which 


RAMONA  AND  THE  FRANCISCANS      303 

spreads  out  the  warp  cords.  Then  with  a  shuttle  in 
hand  the  weaver  threads  his  weft  cords  through  and 
through  the  warp,  pulling  down  the  latter  as  he  requires 
it. 

There  is  also  a  shoemaker's  shop.  Here  are  lasts 
for  all  sizes  and  shapes  of  feet,  and  shoes  for  the  students 
of  the  neighboring  Franciscan  College,  or  the  regular 
sandals  of  the  members  of  the  order,  are  made.  The 
work  of  the  friars  is  not  of  a  style  that  would  suit  milady 
who  desires  exceedingly  fine  leather,  fine  stitches,  fine 
polish  and  high  heels.  Theirs  is  strong,  practical  and 
guaranteed  to  wear  well.  The  use  of  the  sandal  is  a 
good  and  healthful  practice,  especially  in  such  a  climate 
as  that  of  California,  and  wise  should  we  be  if  we 
adopted  the  custom  for  ourselves  and  our  children. 

Somewhat  similar  to  the  life  at  Santa  Barbara  is 
that  of  the  community  at  San  Luis  Rey,  presided 
over  by  the  venerable  and  beloved  Father  O'Keefe, 
who  used  to  live  at  Santa  Barbara.  Under  his  direc 
tion  some  of  the  lay  brothers  are  rebuilding  parts  of 
the  monastery,  so  that  in  the  years  to  come  life  at  San 
Luis  Rey  will  present  a  little  closer  resemblance  to  the 
days  of  Padre  Peyri.  But  instead  of  the  buildings 
being  occupied  by  Indians  receiving  training  in  the 
every  day  duties  of  life,  they  will  be  devoted  to  young 
priests  who  are  in  training  to  go  forth  to  any  field  to 
which  they  may  be  sent  as  missionaries  of  the  Cross, 
according  to  the  tenets  of  the  Catholic  church. 

At  Watsonville,  some  two  hundred  and  seventy 
miles  north  of  Santa  Barbara,  the  Franciscans  are 


304   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

conducting  an  orphanage.  With  fervent  devotion 
these  good  men  give  their  lives  to  the  care  of  these 
deserted  children,  as  in  the  older  days  the  padres  gave 
themselves  to  the  Indians  and  their  children.  At 
San  Diego  Mission,  Indian  children  are  being  taught 
at  the  Sisters'  School.  At  Mission  San  Jose  the 
Dominican  sisters  conduct  an  orphanage,  and  at  Santa 
Clara  the  Jesuits,  long  years  ago,  established  a  college 
for  the  higher  education  of  young  men.  In  San 
Francisco  several  of  the  orders  and  sisterhoods  have 
schools,  orphanages  and  hospitals  and,  in  their  way, 
are  carrying  on  for  the  white  race  the  work  for  which 
the  Mission  of  San  Francisco  was  originally  established 
in  1776,  for  the  Indians. 


A  group  of  Mission  Indian  children  at  the  Sisters'  School,  San  Diego  Mission 

Page  304 


A   group  of  Southern  California  Indian  children,  after  taking  a  ride  in  an 
automobile  with  the  author 

Page  304 


Some  of  the  buildings  of  the  Sherman  Institute,  Indian  School,  Riverside, 
California 

Page  376 


Indian  girls  and  their  teachers  at  the  Ramona  Home,  Indian  School,  Riverside, 
California 

Page  376 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE  INDIGENOUS  ARCHITECTURE  OF  RAMONA's  COUNTRY 

TT^OR  any  one  section  of  the  United  States  to  claim 
•*•  a  new  and  true  style  of  architecture  as  its  own  is  to 
make  a  large  and  rather  startling  claim.  Yet  I  un 
hesitatingly  make  that  claim  for  Ramona's  country. 
There  is  no  purely  original  and  indigenous  American 
architecture  of  the  domestic  type  save  that  which  has 
been  developed  here.  The  so-called  Colonial  archi 
tecture  of  the  East  and  South  was  the  gift  of  Thomas 
Jefferson  to  the  land  over  which  he  was  ultimately  to 
sit  as  the  honored  President.  While  Ambassador  to 
France  he  was  constantly  asked  by  his  Virginia  com 
patriots  and  others  of  his  home-land,  who  valued  his 
artistic  perceptions,  for  architectural  suggestions  for 
plantation  homes,  court-houses  and  the  like. 

Being  a  great  lover  of  the  Greek  classical  styles  he 
sent  pictures  of  the  buildings  of  his  admiration  and 
affection,  and  suggested  the  following  of  these  classical 
lines  in  the  important  structures  of  the  new  world. 
Hence  grew  the  Colonial  style,  which  is  but  a  modifi 
cation  for  modern  civic,  educational  and  domestic 
uses  of  the  well  known  Grecian  models, 


306   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

But  in  Ramona's  country  no  such  direct  modifica 
tions  took  place.  About  seventy  years  before  the 
discovery  of  gold  in  California  the  Franciscan  padres 
began  their  work  of  Christianizing  the  aborigines 
of  what  was  ultimately  to  become  the  Golden  State 
of  the  great  sisterhood  of  American  States.  Thousands 
of  miles  away  from  the  base  of  supplies  in  Mexico; 
with  no  ready  means  of  transportation  even  for  the 
lightest  and  smallest  of  necessities;  with  none  of  our 
present  railway  facilities;  with  no  other  architectural 
knowledge  than  they  themselves  had  been  able  to  gain 
in  their  limited  Spanish  travels  and  studies;  with  but 
a  handful  of  soldiers  and  skilled  mechanics  to  aid  them 
in  controlling  the  untrained  savages  they  were  com 
pelled  to  use  as  builders,  these  wonderful  men  pro 
ceeded  to  design  and  build  churches,  monasteries  and 
workshops  for  the  Indians  that  are  the  growing  as 
tonishment  and  admiration  of  the  world.  Their  very 
poverty  and  limitations  of  resource  compelled  a  rigid 
simplicity  that,  while  they  doubtless  deplored  it  as  an 
evil,  eventuated  in  the  production  of  buildings  that 
for  purity  of  style,  dignity  of  outline,  majestic  im- 
pressiveness  and  peculiar  adaptability  to  the  climatic 
and  scenic  conditions  of  the  new  country  are  beyond 
criticism. 

These  "  Missions  "  have  been  described  and  pic 
tured  again  and  again,  as  well  as  commented  upon 
most  glowingly  by  accomplished  architectural  au 
thorities  and  art  critics  of  the  old  world.  In  my 
own  trilogy  of  books  on  the  Missions  (one  already 


INDIGENOUS  ARCHITECTURE  307 

published  and  the  others  in  preparation)   the    subject 
will  be  found  fully  discussed  .* 

When  the  wealth  and  culture  of  the  American  race 
began  to  wake  up  to  the  picturesqueness  and  appro 
priateness  to  the  landscape  of  these  Mission  structures 
—  awakened  perhaps  more  by  the  warm-hearted  but 
discerning  descriptions  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  than 
any  other  cause  —  bold  and  daring  souls  determined 
to  appropriate  some  of  the  distinctive  features  of  the 
architecture  to  their  own  dwellings.  These  features 
I  have  elsewhere  enumerated,  expounded  and  defined. 
Suffice  it  to  merely  name  them  here.  They  are: 

1 .  Solid  and  massive  walls,  piers  and  buttresses. 

2.  Arched  corridors. 

3.  Curved,  pedimented  gables. 

4.  Terraced  towers,  surmounted  by  a  lantern. 

5 .  Pierced  campanile,  either  in  tower  or  wall. 

6.  Broad,  unbroken,  mural  masses. 

7.  Wide,  overhanging  eaves. 

8.  Long,  low,  sloping  roofs  covered  with  red  clay 
tiles. 

9.  Patio,  or  inner  court. 

The  building  that  contains  all  of  these  in  perfect 
and  harmonious  arrangement  is  the  type  Mission 
structure.  It  is  found  at  San  Luis  Rey  Mission,  near 

*  "  In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions  of  California."  Boston: 
Little,  Brown,  and  Company,  1905. 

In  and  Out  of  the  Old  Missions  of  New  Mexico,  Arizona  and 
Texas." 

"Modern  Mission  Architecture," 


3o8   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Oceanside.  Other  buildings  contain  several  of  the 
essentials,  but  in  this  one  only  are  they  all  found. 

The  "  Mission  Style  "  is  now  as  fully  recognized  by 
leading  architects  and  critical  and  artistic  laymen  in 
Ramona's  country  as  are  the  Greek,  the  Gothic,  the 
Moorish,  or  the  Elizabethan.  Buildings  of  every  style, 
and  used  for  every  purpose  have  been,  and  are  daily 
being,  erected  in  this  style.  Churches,  court-houses, 
hotels,  hospitals,  stables,  railway-stations,  schools, 
parish-houses,  dwellings,  stores  are  but  a  few  of  the 
uses  to  which  it  has  been  put. 

I  am  fully  aware  that  eminent  authorities  have 
decried  the  use  of  ecclesiastical  architecture  of  any 
style  for  domestic  purposes,  but  practical  life  has 
demonstrated  throughout  the  ages,  and  with  the 
approval  of  the  discerning  and  artistic,  that  this 
contention  is  more  academic  than  real. 

For  myself  I  am  keenly  alive  to  the  beauties  of  the 
style  and  its  especial  appropriateness  to  the  climate 
and  scenic  conditions  of  Ramona's  country.  That 
there  are  many  base  uses,  many  degraded  forms,  many 
bastard  productions,  many  sham  and  pretentious 
structures  that  reveal  the  ignorance  of  their  architects 
of  what  truly  constitutes  the  Mission  style  no  one  can 
deny.  But  these  are  the  inevitable  tribute  sham 
pays  to  reality,  untruth  to  truth,  and  in  the  very 
crudeness  of  their  imitation  show  the  sincerest  and 
realest  flattery. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   CORONELS    AND   THE    AUTHOR   OF   RAMONA 

IT  is  well  known  that  Mrs.  Jackson  received  much 
of  her  information  and  inspiration  for  Ramona  from 
Don  Antonio  F.  Coronel,  State  Treasurer  of  California 
before  American  occupation,  and  Dona  Mariana,  his 
beautiful  and  accomplished  wife.  Of  Don  Antonio  she 
wrote  in  Echoes  in  the  City  of  the  Angels :*"He  is  sixty- 
five  years  of  age,  but  he  is  young;  the  best  waltzer  in 
Los  Angeles  to-day;  his  eye  keen,  his  blood  fiery  quick; 
his  memory  like  a  burning  glass  bringing  into  sharp 
light  and  focus  a  half  century  as  if  it  were  as  yesterday." 

There  is  no  doubt  the  story  would  have  been  written 
without  Don  Antonio,  but  those  who  know  can  see 
many  traces  of  his  gracious  helpfulness  all  through  the 
book.  And  as  one  rereads  the  Echoes  he  feels  how 
deeply  and  sympathetically  Mrs.  Jackson  understood 
Don  Antonio,  and  how  lovingly  she  enjoyed  telling  of 
him  to  the  world-wide  audience  of  her  readers.  She 
describes  his  house,  as  it  appeared  even  twenty  years 
ago,  perfectly  —  the  low  adobe,  built  on  three  sides  of 
a  square,  surrounded  by  orchards,  vineyards  and 
orange  groves,  and  looking  out  on  an  old-fashioned 
garden.  And  the  gracious  owner,  the  gray-haired 
Mexican  senor,  and  his  young  wife,  with  her  clear  olive 

*  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Missions. 


3io   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

skin,  soft  brown  eyes,  delicate,  sensitive  nostrils,  and 
broad  smiling  mouth  of  the  Spanish  madonna  type, 
how  enchanting  the  pictures  she  gives  of  them,  as  he 
told  of  his  exciting  experiences  as  a  Mexican  colonist 
during  the  Revolutionary  days,  his  early  struggles  in 
California,  his  taking  up  arms  against  the  Americans 
and  his  final  acceptance  of  the  foreign  element,  while 
his  wife  acted  as  interpreter,  with  that  delicious  Spanish 
accent.  She  went  for  but  a  few  moments'  call  upon 
them  and  stayed  three  hours.  That  was  but  the  begin 
ning  of  a  friendship  that  grew  keener  and  warmer  until 
death :  a  beautiful  friendship  that  it  does  one  good  to 
consider.  Don  Antonio  and  his  wife  both  opened  their 
hearts  wide  and  took  in  as  their  very  own  this  equally 
warm-hearted,  impulsive,  sympathetic  gringo  woman, 
whose  poetic  feeling  corresponded  with  their  own, 
and  whose  love  for  the  Indians  was  equally  firm,  abid 
ing,  honest  and  true.  Of  whom  but  such  friends 
could  it  have  been  written,  as  Mrs.  Jackson  wrote  of 
them:  "  Near  the  western  end  of  Don  Antonio's  porch 
is  an  orange  tree,  on  which  were  hanging  at  this  time 
twenty-five  hundred  oranges,  ripe  and  golden  among  the 
glossy  leaves.  The  Sefiora  never  allowed  me  to  depart 
without  bringing  to  me,  in  the  carriage,  farewell  gifts 
of  flowers  and  fruit;  clusters  of  grapes,  dried  and  fresh ; 
great  boughs  full  of  oranges;  more,  than  I  could  lift. 
As  I  drove  away  thus,  my  lap  filled  with  bloom  and 
golden  fruit,  canopies  of  golden  fruit  over  my  head, 
I  said  to  myself  often :  '  Fables  are  prophecies.  The 
Hesperides  have  come  true,' 


THE  CORONELS  AND  THE  AUTHOR  311 

When  Mrs.  Jackson  came  to  California  commissioned 
to  write  on  the  Missions  and  Mission  Indians,  she  was 
furnished  with  a  letter  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Bishop. 
He,  knowing  the  keen  interest  Don  Antonio  had  taken 
in  both,  gave  her  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him,  and 
thus  began  the  friendship,  some  of  the  fruit  of  which 
appears  in  Ramona.  Don  Antonio  was  especially 
fitted  to  give  Mrs.  Jackson  the  help  she  needed.  He 
was  a  life-time  friend  of  the  Indians,  and  being  edu 
cated  and  enlightened  in  the  Spanish  and  Mexican 
laws  regarding  them  and  in  the  whole  history  of  the 
Franciscan  Mission  system  —  having  served  under 
Governor  Michel torena  in  1844  as  Inspector  of  the 
Southern  Missions  —  he  was,  perhaps,  better  equipped 
to  help  her  than  any  other  living  man.  In  addition 
to  these  facts  was  the  most  important  one  that  the 
Indians  trusted  and  loved  him,  came  to  him  in  their 
troubles  and  disputes,  asked  and  patiently  received 
his  advice  and  generally  followed  it.  It  is  said  that 
on  the  occasion  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  second  visit  to  "El 
Recreo  "  —  the  old  Coronel  home  —  on  Christmas  Day, 
1882,  while  she  was  conversing  with  Don  Antonio  and 
Dona  Mariana  about  the  Indians  and  their  wrongs,  a 
delegation  of  five  mounted  men  disturbed  their  talk. 
It  soon  transpired  that  these  were  all  chiefs  of  tribes 
and  that  they  had  come  far  and  fast  to  inform  Don 
Antonio  that  legal  papers  had  been  served  upon  them 
demanding  the  immediate  withdrawal  of  certain 
Indians  from  lands  they  occupied.  What  could  be 
done?  Don  Antonio  was  their  advisor!  They  were 


312   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

in  the  deepest  distress,  and  counsels  among  themselves 
were  divided.  The  older  and  wiser  of  them  knew  that 
armed  opposition  to  the  will  of  the  white  men  was  hope 
less;  the  younger  men  were  eager  to  fight  and  only  the 
exercise  of  great  influence  could  restrain  them.  Mrs. 
Jackson  became  so  interested  that  she  herself  took  part 
in  the  conference,  and  so  deeply  impressed  the  chiefs 
with  her  sympathy  and  insight  into  their  side  of  the 
case  that,  when,  like  an  inspiration,  the  thought  came 
to  her  to  visit  the  Indian  villages  in  person  that  she 
might  see  and  know  their  condition  for  herself,  they 
assured  her  of  a  cordial  welcome. 

Don  Antonio  had  every  reason  to  be  the  Indians' 
friend,  as  well  as  they  his.  On  three  separate  occasions 
they  had  saved  his  life,  and  in  her  Echoes  Mrs.  Jackson 
tells  of  these  exciting  adventures,  which  display  in  a 
marked  degree  the  faithful  trustworthiness  of  the 
aborigines. 

It  was  to  Don  Antonio,  it  will  be  remembered,  that 
Mrs.  Jackson  confided  her  purpose  to  write  a  novel,  and 
she  asked  largely  of  him  for  assistance.  This  letter  is 
published  in  the  chapter  devoted  to  Mrs.  Jackson's 
letters.  He  gave  to  her  particulars  of  the  Temecula 
eviction. 

It  is  commonly  stated  that  part  of  Ramona  was 
written  at  the  Coronel  house,  even  Mr.  Davis  writing 
in  Out  West:  "  While  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was  engaged 
upon  the  superstructure  of  the  story  of  Ramona,  at  the 
Coronel  Ranch,  etc."  In  the  letter  before  quoted  Mrs. 
Jackson  clearly  shows  the  inaccuracy  of  this  statement : 


THE  CORONELS  AND  THE  AUTHOR  313 

"  I  wish  I  had  had  this  plan  in  my  mind  last  year, 
when  I  was  in  Los  Angeles.  I  would  have  taken  notes 
of  many  interesting  things  you  told  me.  But  it  is  only 
recently,  since  writing  out  for  our  report  the  full 
accounts  of  the  different  bands  of  Indians  there,  that 
I  have  felt  that  I  dared  undertake  the  writing  of  a 
long  story.  I  am  going  to  New  York  in  a  few  days," 
(she  writes  from  Colorado  Springs);  "  I  shall  be  busily 
at  work  there  all  winter  on  my  story." 

In  the  Los  Angeles  Chamber  of  Commerce,  in  a  room 
especially  set  apart  for  the  purpose,  is  Don  Antonio's  val 
uable  collection  of  historical  and  ethnological  material 
gathered  during  a  lifetime  spent  in  California.  It  is  a 
priceless  historical  treasure  and  shows  the  wise  foresight 
of  the  man.  It  is  in  the  charge  of  Mrs.  S.  A.  P. 
Wheeler,  the  acting  curator,  whose  kind  helpfulness 
I  gratefully  acknowledge,  and  who  is  ever  ready  to 
give  information  upon  the  collection  and  kindred 
subjects  to  those  who  seek.  Don  Antonio  himself 
is  gone,  his  wife  is  remarried  and  now  living  in 
Mexico,  his  interesting  house  destroyed  and  his 
fertile  ranch  of  seventy-five  acres  now  so  completely 
covered  with  structures  of  brick,  stone,  concrete 
and  wood  that  he  himself  could  scarce  discover 
the  old  boundaries,  and  yet  his  work,  memory  and 
influence  live.  If  there  was  nothing  more  to  his  life 
than  what  he  gave  to  Mrs.  Jackson  and  she  incorpo 
rated  in  the  pages  of  Ramona,  he  was  a  benefactor  to 
his  kind. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

MRS.  JACKSON  AND  ABBOTT  KINNEY 

AS  has  been  elsewhere  related  Mr.  Abbott  Kinney 
was  Mrs.  Jackson's  companion  on  her  visits  to  the 
Indian  villages.  At  her  request  he  had  been  appointed 
a  commissioner,  with  her,  to  investigate  and  report 
to  the  Government  upon  the  condition  of  the  Mission 
Indians. 

For  the  benefit  of  my  readers  I  once  asked  Mr. 
Kinney  how  he  came  to  know  Mrs.  Jackson  and  to 
give  me  some  reminiscences  of  their  travels  together. 
In  effect  he  said: 

"  I  came  to  Southern  California  in  search  of  health 
in  1873.  Mrs.  Jackson  came  about  the  same  time. 

"  I  had  been  in  business  in  New  York  but  my  health 
had  failed,  and,  under  the  advice  of  my  physician,  for 
some  months  I  had  been  traveling,  looking  for  a  place 
where  I  could  live.  In  September,  1873,!  landed  at  San 
Diego  from  a  Pacific  Mail  liner.  It  had  been  a  dry 
year,  and  everything  showed  it,  and  you  can  imagine 
what  San  Diego  looked  like,  in  1873,  and  a  dry  year. 
We  climbed  up  the  bank  and  walked  up  to  the  hotel 
looking  for  refreshments.  The  first '  boom '  had  passed. 
The  Horton  House  was  built,  but  everything  had 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR    315 

'  flattened  out,'  and  when  we  reached  the  hotel  the  win 
dows  of  the  lower  story  were  boarded  up,  and  the  place 
closed.  By  and  by,  however,  the  janitor  let  us  inside, 
but  the  state  of  affairs,  inside  and  out,  was  too  much 
for  me  and  I  left,  never  expecting  to  see  California 
again. 

"But  in  the  spring  of  1 880  I  came  again, —  this 
time  to  San  Francisco.  The  fall  of  snow  had  been 
severe  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  range  and  the  Central 
Pacific  was  blockaded,  and  I  wanted  to  go  on  Bast. 
I  was  tired  of  San  Francisco,  and  a  friend  said :  '  Why 
don't  you  go  down  into  Southern  California.  There's 
a  beautiful  spot  near  Los  Angeles  called  the  Sierra 
Madre  Villa.  You'll  be  happy  and  comfortable  there 
and  can  while  away  the  time  until  the  blockade  is 
raised.' 

"  Immediately  I  bought  a  return  ticket  and  hurried 
down  to  Los  Angeles.  It  was  raining  when  I  arrived 
and  the  streets  were  one  vast  mess  of  mud.  Getting 
out  at  the  old  River  Station  I  didn't  like  either  the  look 
or  the  smell  of  things,  for  that  mud  absolutely  stank. 
I  went  up  to  one  of  the  hotels,  but  there  was  nothing 
pleasing  about  the  place,  so  I  hired  a  carriage  to  drive 
out  to  Sierra  Madre.  How  that  mud  on  the  '  old 
adobe  road  '  stuck  to  our  wheels!  In  due  time  we 
arrived  to  be  met  with  the  cheering  intelligence, 
1  There  isn't  a  room  in  the  house.'  That  was  all  very 
well  but  I  was  there  and  had  to  stay,  so  they  put  me 
in  the  parlor,  where  I  remained  three  days.  The 
weather  began  to  improve,  the  whole  country  was 


316   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

one  rich  panorama  of  flowers,  trees,  sunshine  and 
beauty.  I  soon  saw  why  people  loved  Southern 
California  and  my  appreciation  grew  day  by  day. 
Then  I  decided  'that  this  was  good  enough  country 
for  me  and  I  let  my  return  ticket  expire.  And  I'm 
here  yet!  In  due  time  I  bought  over  500  acres  near 
Sierra  Madre  and  there  determined  to  make  my  home, 
and  having  first  come  from  the  Hawaiian  Islands  it 
was  natural  that  I  should  call  my  home  place  '  Kinney- 
loa,'  -  the  loa,  as  you  know,  being  Hawaiian  for 
hill  or  mountain. 

"  Occasionally  I  had  to  go  into  Los  Angeles  and 
when  I  did  I  would  often  stay  a  week  or  ten  days.  In 
those  days,  everything  was  primitive.  The  hotels, 
the  Pico  House,  Cosmopolitan  and  St.  Elmo,  were 
impossible  places  for  those  who  loved  neatness,  com 
fort  and  decent  meals,  so  I  found  a  place  on  New  High 
St.  called  the  Kimball  Mansion  —  a  reputable  boarding- 
house,  where  the  food  was  good  and  well  served.  Here 
it  was  I  first  met  Mrs.  Jackson.  Her  brightness,  vi 
vacity  and  keen  interest  in  everything  she  saw  at 
tracted  me  to  her,  as  it  did  everybody  else,  but  we 
didn't  have  much  to  say  to  each  other  until  one  day  she 
went  out  driving  with  Mrs.  Jeanne  C.  Carr,  of  Pasa 
dena.  Mrs.  Carr  took  her  to  Kinneyloa,  which  I  had 
painted  white  and  when  Mrs.  Jackson  saw  it  she  ex 
claimed  :  '  How  is  it  possible  that  any  sensible  creature 
could  paint  his  house  white  in  such  surroundings  as 
these?'  The  white  house  was  too  striking  a  contrast 
against  the  green  of  the  hills  and  the  verdure  of  the 


8    - 

ll 

a  .3 


^  o 

8    O 


Looking  from  Mt.  Wilson  towards  Alt.  San  Antonio,  after  sunrise  in  summer 
with  fog  in  San  Gabriel  Canyon,  and  flowing  mist  in  Santa  Anita  Canyon 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman  Page  397 


In  the  snow  on  Mt.  Wilson  on  New  Year's  Day.   The  Pasadena  Tournament 
of  Roses  is  being  held  in  the  valley,  five  miles  away 

Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman  Page  397 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR    317 

valleys.  When  she  returned  Mrs.  Carr  laughingly 
told  me  of  this,  so,  a  few  days  later,  I  drove  down  to 
her  place  in  Pasadena  —  where  Mrs.  Jackson  was  now 
stopping  —  and  invited  her  to  take  a  drive  out  with 
me.  We  chatted  pleasantly  and  agreeably  as  we 
drove  along  until  I  stopped  in  sudden  and  full  view 
of  Mt.  San  Antonio,  then  completely  crowned  with 
virgin  snow.  '  Oh,  how  perfectly  beautiful!  How 
entrancingly  lovely!  '  she  exclaimed.  I  let  her  ex 
patiate  on  its  charm  for  a  few  minutes,  then  I  quietly 
remarked :  '  How  is  it  you  like  this  so  much,  this  snow 
white  mountain  in  contrast  to  the  green  and  pure  blue 
of  the  sky,  but  you  thought  my  white  house  was  en 
tirely  out  of  harmony?'  She  laughed,  made  some 
joking  response,  and  from  that  time  we  became  very 
good  friends.  She  found  out  that  I  spoke  Spanish, 
and  as  she  was  anxious  to  talk  with  Indians  and  Mexi 
cans,  and  also  call  upon  some  of  the  Spanish  families 
at  the  old  ranch-houses,  she  gently  intimated  that 
it  would  be  a  great  favor  to  her  if  I  would  go  and  in 
terpret  for  her.  My  natural  sympathies  being  largely 
in  tune  with  her  own  you  can  well  understand  how  she 
interested  me,  especially  as  I  went  about  with  her  more 
and  more.  When  she  began  particularly  to  interest 
herself  in  the  Indians  and  the  condition  of  their  lands 
she  often  sent  for  me  to  interpret.  The  whites  were 
fast  crowding  the  Indians  out.  Patch  after  patch 
of  land  was  being  wrested  from  them,  and  she  saw 
that  the  Indian  agent  was  absolutely  indifferent  to 
their  wrongs.  No  one  seemed  to  have  any  care  or  any 


3i 8   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

interest  in  their  affairs,  except  to  rob  them. 
Everybody  was  looking  out  for  himself.  The  Indian 
being  the  hindmost,  the  devil  was  looking  after  him. 
The  officials  merely  shrugged  their  shoulders  and 
laughed  when  anything  was  said  to  them.  The  cruelty 
of  the  whole  thing,  combined  with  its  fearful  injustice, 
so  worked  on  her,  that,  knowing  Mr.  Teller,  then  the 
Secretary  of  the  Interior  (and  who,  as  you  know, 
came  from  her  own  State  of  Colorado)  she  wrote  to 
him  in  such  a  way  that  she  was  soon  asked  to  under 
take  the  commission,  for  the  government,  of  visiting 
all  the  Mission  Indians  of  California,  reporting  on  their 
condition,  and  suggesting  what  should  be  done  to  help 
them. 

"  It  was  quite  natural,  as  hitherto  I  had  been  asso 
ciated  with  her,  in  a  friendly  way,  in  her  work,  and  as 
I  was  a  business  man,  reasonably  conversant  with  the 
land  laws  of  California  and  their  operation,  that  she 
should  ask  me  to  go  along  with  her.  And,  of  course, 
my  familiarity  with  Spanish  made  my  presence  de 
sirable  as  an  interpreter.  Then,  too,  she  was  a  woman 
of  considerable  perspicacity.  She  knew  that  her 
report  would  be  apt  to  deal  largely  with  the  question 
from  the  sympathetic  and  sentimental  side,  and  cold 
blooded  statesmen  would  not  be  much  influenced  by 
that  kind  of  thing,  so  she  wanted  me  to  help  balance 
the  thing  by  paying  attention  to  the  business  and 
legal  sides  of  the  proposition. 

"  That  report,  as  you  know,  was  made  by  Mrs.  Jackson 
and  myself,  and  it  was  in  the  investigations  that  led 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR    319 

to  the  making  of  it  that  the  book  Ramona  was  born. 
We  actually  saw  some  of  the  incidents  described; 
many  of  the  facts  were  developed  by  the  witnesses, 
all  of  whom  we  examined  under  oath;  we  met  with 
many  of  the  characters  whose  pictures  were  afterwards 
drawn  with  startling  fidelity  by  Mrs.  Jackson  in  the 
pages  of  her  book. 

"  She  was  a  wonderfully  interesting  traveling  com 
panion.  Her  sympathies  and  knowledge  were  so 
broad.  Everything  appealed  to  her, —  the  flowers, 
trees,  plants,  shrubs,  insects,  birds,  beasts,  the  sky, 
the  mountains,  the  valley,  the  islands,  the  ocean,  the 
clouds,  the  stars,  the  different  colored  rocks,  the  geo 
logical  formations,  the  streams  we  passed,  the  farms 
with  their  crops,  and  especially  the  people.  Nothing 
escaped  her,  and  when  it  came  to  human  beings  she 
seemed  to  have  intuitions  that  were  more  than  human. 
She  could  go  up  to  utter  strangers,  people  of  the  most 
diverse  kind,  —  diverse  in  nature,  social  position, 
work,  education,  ideals,  —  and  in  a  few  minutes, 
without  any  leading  or  prompting,  they  seemed  to 
pour  out  their  inmost  ideas  to  her.  I  have  seen  her 
go  up  to  a  Scotch  shepherd,  uncouth,  suspicious,  un 
communicative,  and  without  any  effort  engage  him 
in  conversation,  and  in  less  time  almost  than  it  takes 
me  to  tell  it,  he  was  pouring  out  to  her  all  about  the 
difficulties  of  his  life,  the  charms  of  it,  his  love  for  par 
ticular  creatures  in  his  flock,  and  the  like. 

"  It  was  the  same  with  the  Indians.     They  fairly 
crowded  around  her  as  if  they  longed  '  to  touch  the 


320   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

hem  of  her  garment.'  Her  very  presence  seemed  to 
them  a  blessing.  Their  eyes  glistened  and  their  faces 
shone  almost  as  soon  as  they  saw  her,  for  they  felt, 
by  an  intuition  keen  as  that  of  the  unspoiled  animals, 
the  deep  and  sincere  sympathy  that  filled  her  very 
being  on  their  behalf.  At  Cahuilla  this  was  very 
manifest.  They  wanted  to  sing  and  dance  for  her. 
They  wanted  to  do  everything  they  could  think  of  to 
show  their  delight  at  her  presence.  And  so  we  saw 
them  dance,  and  heard  them  sing;  we  visited  them  in 
their  little  kishes  or  tule  huts,  and  adobe  houses;  we 
went  and  saw  their  fields  where  they  sought,  with 
pathetic  industry,  to  wrest  a  living  from  the  inhospita 
ble  soil. 

"  When  she  went  East  we  regularly  corresponded. 
I  always  addressed  her  as  General  —  she  was  the  direct 
ing  spirit  in  all  our  work  while  visiting  the  Indians  — 
and  she  called  me  her  Comrade,  and  in  writing  short 
ened  it  to  '  Co.'  When  she  returned  to  Southern  Cal 
ifornia,  after  she  had  broken  her  leg,  I  did  not  see 
much  of  her,  but  she  took  the  most  kindly,  — and,  as 
you  will  see  from  her  letters,  almost  sisterly  interest 
in  me  and  my  affairs.  When  she  died  in  San  Francisco 
I  not  only  felt  that  I  had  lost  a  dear  and  gracious 
friend,  but  the  world  had  lost  a  useful  woman,  whose 
work  was  beneficent  in  the  highest  degree. 

"  A  curious  incident  happened  to  me  personally 
on  that  trip.  We  had  stopped  over  night  at  Berg 
man's,  an  old  stage  station  on  the  road  between  Yuma 
and  Los  Angeles,  and  as  I  sat  there  that  evening  before 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR    321 

the  fire  I  noticed  that  Bergman  kept  looking  at  me  with 
a  special  significance.  At  last  he  spoke :  '  Pardon  me, 
sir,  but  would  you  mind  telling  me  your  name?  ' 
When  I  told  him  he  asked :  '  Did  you  ever  have  a 
brother  in  the  army?  '  '  Yes! '  I  replied,  '  I  have  a 
brother,  a  major  in  the  regular  army.  He's  in  the 
First  Cavalry ! '  '  Well,  sir ! '  said  he,  '  I  know  him.  He 
passed  through  here  in  1866  and  I  sold  a  horse  to  him 
and  he  said  he'd  send  the  money  back  to  me.  I  never 
expected  to  receive  it,  but  in  due  time  it  came.  You 
looked  so  much  like  him,  I  was  sure  you  must  be  his 
brother.' 

"  And  so  it  was.  My  brother  had  gone  through  the 
country  in  the  year  of  the  drought,  for  when  I  wrote 
to  him  after  I  settled  here  and  told  him  what  a  beautiful 
country  it  was  he  sarcastically  wrote  back  and  said  he 
knew  all  he  cared  to  know  of  its  beauties,  —  one  ride 
over  it  in  drought  time  was  enough  for  him. 

"  We  had  quite  an  experience  when  we  reached 
Santa  Ysabel,  near  San  Diego.  We  had  gone  up  into 
the  mountain,  and  were  suddenly  caught  in  a  severe 
storm.  It  was  spring-time  and  the  nights  were  cold, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  travel  in  such  a  storm,  so  we 
took  shelter  in  an  old  shack  we  found  there.  It  was  a 
wretched,  tumble-down  building,  and  do  what  we  could 
it  was  impossible  to  make  it  proof  against  the  fury  of  the 
wind  and  the  rain.  The  storm  beat  in  upon  us  through 
the  cracks  in  the  walls  and  wet  us,  yet  it  seemed  too 
perilous  to  dare  the  fury  of  the  storm  outside.  For 
three  days  we  were  imprisoned  there,  hoping  the  fury 


322   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  the  elements  would  subside.  At  last,  after  a  very 
wretched  night,  we  decided  we  couldn't  stand  the  shack 
any  longer,  so  the  horses  were  harnessed,  and  right  in 
the  teeth  of  the  gale  we  started  to  drive  down  to  the 
Santa  Maria  Valley  below.  In  less  than  an  hour  we 
were  in  an  entirely  different  climate,  where  everything 
was  sunshiny  and  agreeable.  The  storm  was  just 
confined  to  the  mountain,  and  we  drove  right  out  of  it. 

"  At  Pala  (where  the  Indians  evicted  from  Warner's 
Ranch  are  now  living)  there  was  quite  a  little  rancherm 
of  Indians,  and  we  found  several  camps  in  and  near 
that  valley,  all  of  which  are  gone  out  of  existence  now. 
They  were  on  lands  they  had  occupied  since  before 
the  advent  of  the  Spaniards,  and  as  you  well  know,  the 
old  adobe  chapel  with  the  picturesque  campanile  was 
built  for  their  spiritual  edification  by  Padre  Peyri,  of 
San  Luis  Rey.  But  one  by  one  they  were  ousted  from 
these  lands  by  scoundrel  white  men,  and  the  miserable 
wretch  of  an  agent  stood  by  without  endeavoring  to 
raise  a  hand  to  prevent.  It  was  this  utter  indifference 
to  such  crimes  on  the  part  of  the  men  who  were  paid 
by  the  government  to  protect  and  guard  the  Indians 
in  their  rights  that  provoked  our  ire,  but  it  worked 
upon  us  in  different  ways.  With  Mrs.  Jackson  it 
aroused  her  to  a  frenzy  of  strong  determination  to 
battle  for  them  to  the  death.  Me,  it  disgusted.  I 
saw  the  utter  hopelessness  of  the  whole  thing,  and 
wanted  to  wash  my  hands  of  it. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  this  was  the  immediate  effect 
by  any  means.  No!  that  feeling  came  later.  At 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR  323 

the  time,  we  worked  faithfully  and  energetically  to  do 
whatever  we  could  for  their  relief.  For  instance, 
at  Temecula  we  camped  right  on  the  scene  so 
vividly  described  in  Ramona.  We  saw  the  empty 
houses,  some  of  them  in  use  by  white  men,  and  others 
torn  down.  We  saw  the  evidences  of  a  hasty  and 
practically  compulsory  eviction.  We  visited  the 
graveyard  and  there  found  a  half  crazy  woman  weep 
ing  over  a  grave,  as  Mrs.  Jackson  describes.  And  when 
we  reached  Saboba,  near  San  Jacinto,  we  found  that 
the  same  things  were  just  on  the  eve  of  occurring  there. 
With  her  tireless  and  characteristic  energy,  Mrs. 
Jackson  determined  to  prevent  it,  and  I  entered  into 
her  plan  with  all  the  powers  I  possessed.  We  person 
ally  saw  the  parties  at  interest  in  the  ejectment  suit. 
We  discovered  more  than  one  discreditable  incident 
connected  with  the  general  treatment  of  the  Indians 
by  the  whites,  which  we  strongly  rebuked  and,  as  far 
as  possible,  remedied.  Then,  as  you  know,  a  lawyer 
was  engaged  to  fight  the  ejectment  suit  and  we  finally 
won  it,  so  that  the  Indians  remain  at  Saboba  to  this 
day." 

Here  Mr.  Kinney  interjected  into  his  narrative 
a  few  words  upon  the  recent  Warner's  Ranch  eject 
ment  suit  decision  by  the  Supreme  Courts  of  California 
and  the  United  States.  "  I  can't  understand  those 
decisions.  The  questions  at  issue  were  exactly  the 
same  as  those  at  Saboba,  and  were  argued  in  the  same 
way.  It  is  well  known  to  all  students  of  the  subject 
that  the  general  laws  of  Spain  for  the  conduct  of 


324   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Spanish  officials  towards  the  Indians  in  all  parts  of  the 
dominion  of  Spain  were  imperative  that  the  rights  of 
the  occupation  of  all  Indians  must  be  respected,  and 
that,  whether  expressed  or  not  in  grants  and  deeds, 
they  were  inalienable  and  prior  to  anything  else. 

"  Now  there  are  justice  and  national  honor  for  you! 
We  find  it  a  common  thing  to  sneer  at  Spain  and  con 
demn  her  treatment  of  the  Cubans  and  others,  yet  in 
their  laws  and  recognition  of  the  rights  of  the  Indians, 
they  certainly  have  something  to  teach  us. 

"  When  the  Warner's  Ranch  case  came  up  before 
the  California  courts,  the  plea  was  that  the  Indians 
had  not  observed  the  California  law,  which  declared 
that  they  must  appear  before  the  Land  Commission 
and  show  their  immemorial  use  of  the  land.  As  they 
failed  to  do  that,  they  lost  all  their  rights.  And  so  the 
court  declared.  When  the  case  came  up  to  the  Supreme 
Courts  of  the  State  and  the  United  States  practically 
the  same  attitude  was  taken.  Whatever  the  law  may 
say  about  it,  the  cruel  injustice  of  it  is  self  apparent. 

"  Another  thing  should  not  be  forgotten.  The  arch 
bishop,  bishop  and  priests  of  those  days  were  not,  as 
a  rule,  much  concerned  about  the  condition  of  the 
Indians  and  the  old  Mission  churches.  Many  of  them 
were  Catalans,  who  had  little  or  no  sympathy  with  the 
high  ideals  of  the  noble  Franciscans.  Of  course  all  the 
priests  were  not  Catalans.  There  were  notable  ex 
ceptions,  as  in  the  case  of  Father  Ubach  in  San  Diego, 
whom  Mrs.  Jackson  knew  well  and  fully  described 
in  her  character  of  Father  Gaspara.  We  actually 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR  325 

found  some  of  these  priests,  or  those  in  higher 
authority,  selling  part  of  the  lands  that  had  origi 
nally  been  held  by  the  Franciscans  in  trust  for  the 
Indians.  While  the  courts  had  turned  them  over  to 
the  Church,  and  legally  they  could  be  disposed  of  as 
the  Church  decided,  morally  it  was  well  enough  known 
that  all  the  land  connected  with  the  old  Missions  was 
held  in  trust  by  the  Franciscans  for  the  Indians.  Not 
a  foot  of  it  belonged  to  the  Church.  Yet  they  were 
selling  land.  At  Santa  Ines,  in  Santa  Barbara  County, 
we  found  a  man  ploughing  on  such  land  which  he  said 
he  had  bought,  while  the  Indians  were  crowded  out. 
When  we  remonstrated  with  him  he  said  if  he  had  not 
bought  it,  some  one  else  would,  so  why  did  we  blame 
him?  This  was  Downey  Harvey's  attitude  about  the 
Warner's  Ranch. 

"  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  Catalan  priests  cared 
very  little  either  for  the  Missions  or  the  Indians.  We 
actually  found  them  tearing  down  the  arches  of  one 
Mission  (and  we  knew  where  it  was  done  in  other 
cases)  in  order  to  sell  the  brick  for  building  purposes 
to  outsiders.  And  there  was  clear  evidence  that  some 
of  them  were  not  what  they  should  have  been  morally ; 
that  they  were  corrupting  the  girls  of  the  helpless 
people  they  were  supposed  to  protect.  The  result  of 
what  we  saw  and  discovered  by  unquestioned  evidence 
in  this  regard  was  that  Mrs.  Jackson  gained  an  intense 
dislike  to  the  Catalans,  and  as  she  was  a  good  hater,  as 
well  as  an  earnest  lover,  her  dislike  is  clearly  evi 
denced  in  Ramona. 


326   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"  Just  let  me  tell  you  one  incident  which  came  under 
our  own  observation.  Where  it  occurred  doesn't 
matter.  An  old  Indian  woman  had  died,  and  all  the 
Indians,  as  well  as  the  Spaniards  and  Mexicans  of  the 
neighborhood,  attended  the  burial  service.  The  priest 
was  a  Catalan.  During  the  ceremony  something  went 
wrong,  and  he  began  to  abuse  the  sexton.  For  fully 
twenty  minutes  he  poured  out  a  volume  of  vile  oaths 
and  abuse  upon  the  head  of  the  poor  wretch,  while 
the  Indians,  filled  with  grief  for  the  loss  of  one  whom 
they  loved,  cowered  there  in  bewildered  amazement. 

"  Mrs.  Jackson's  emphatic  protest  to  those  in  author 
ity  about  such  disgraceful  scenes  soon  had  effect,  and 
this  class  of  man  was  removed,  never  to  be  seen  again, 
let  us  hope,  in  the  pulpits  of  this  or  any  other  country." 

Mrs.  Jackson's  interesting  story  for  children,  "  The 
Hunter  Cats  of  Connorloa,"  was  written  at  Mr.  Kinney's 
home,  Kinneyloa,  and,  as  to  the  main  facts,  is  per 
fectly  true.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  name  was  changed 
somewhat.  "  The  faithful  black  servant  Jim,  who 
went  with  Mr.  Connor  everywhere,  and  took  the  best 
of  care  of  him,"  was  a  Virginia  mulatto  who  lived 
with  Mr.  Kinney  for  many  years. 

Mr.  Kinney  is  now  engaged  in  building  up  a  new  sea 
side  town,  Venice.  He  was  one  of  the  chief  projectors 
of  Ocean  Park,  now  one  of  Southern  California's  leading 
seaside  resorts,  and  Venice  is  its  sister  on  the  south. 
Active  and  energetic  as  ever,  and  perhaps  more  so,  full 
of  pressing  business  and  its  anxious  cares,  he  is  yet 
interested  enough  in  Ramona  and  her  story,  and 


ABBOTT  KINNEY  AND  THE  AUTHOR  327 

especially  in  the  creator  and  author  of  Ramona,  Mrs. 
Jackson,  to  stop  and  talk  of  the  days  when  they  were 
co-commissioners  in  the  human  and  humane  work  of 
seeking  to  benefit  the  condition  of  the  Mission  Indians 
of  California. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A  FEW  LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  RAMONA 

TT  is  natural  that  the  personality  of  an  author  whose 
-*-  work  has  touched  the  deepest  springs  and  tenderest 
emotions  of  the  human  heart  should  be  interesting  to 
her  readers.  It  is  not  a  mere  vulgar  curiosity,  a  spirit 
of  rude  prying,  but  a  reverent  desire  to  know  more  of 
the  one  who  has  become  as  a  near  and  dear  friend  in 
the  close  and  personal  intimacy  of  a  book.  The  read 
ing  of  a  book  often  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  con 
fessional,  or  a  sacred  interview.  The  words  of  the 
author  may  reveal  to  the  reader  his  own  soul,  and 
thus  a  relationship  is  made  between  the  two  that  is  as 
peculiar  as  it  is  wonderful.  For,  should  the  two  per 
sons  —  author  and  reader  —  ever  meet,  the  latter 
might  feel  a  shock  of  surprise  at  the  "  outer  covering  " 
of  the  individual  who,  in  his  or  her  book  had  so  com 
pletely  won  his  interest  and  sympathy. 

Mrs.  Jackson  has  "  passed  on."  Her  earthly  work 
is  completed,  save  as  her  "  works  do  follow  her."  Yet 
her  personality  is  of  in  tensest  interest  to  many  thousands 
of  those  whose  hearts  have  been  awakened  to  a  keen 
desire  that  justice  be  done  to  the  Indians,  by  the  stirring 
words  she  wrote  while  in  the  flesh.  Hence  I  deem  it 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  329 

that  the  publication  of  these  extracts  from  her  letters 
to  Mr.  Abbott  Kinney,  her  Associate  Commissioner  or 
agent  to  visit  and  report  on  the  "  Condition  and  needs 
of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California,"  and  others,  can 
not  fail  to  be  a  source  of  added  interest  and  satisfac 
tion,  especially  as  they  reveal  her  beautiful  and  tender 
womanhood,  her  exquisite  sympathy  for  the  down 
trodden  Indian,  her  keen  interest  in  the  life  and  welfare 
of  her  friends,  her  humor,  and  the  many  little  things 
that  only  an  intimate  correspondence  or  acquaintance 
can  reveal. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  January,  1884,  she  begins  the 
following  letter,  which  was  completed  February  2. 

"  Dear  Co. 

"When  I  arrived  here  on  Nov.  20  and  found  that 
you  had  left  on  November  19,  'a madder  man  than  Mr. 
Mears  you  would  not  wish  to  see.' —  You  surely  could 
not  have  got  my  note  saying  I  would  start  on  the  i6th  — 
I  took  cold  on  the  journey.   .  .  . 

"Feby.2.  Whether  from  the  horrible  weather,  or  from 
overwork  I  don't  know,  I  collapsed  for  a  week,  and  had  an 
ugly  sore  throat  and  did  no  work.  Now  I  am  all  right 
again  and  back  at  my  table,  but  shall  go  slower.  I  am 
leading  a  life  as  quiet  as  if  I  were  at  Mrs.  KimbalPs  — • 
I  go  nowhere  — •  am  never  out  after  5P.M.  I  am  re 
solved  to  run  no  risks  whatever  till  after  I  get  this  story 
done.  I  hope  it  is  good.  It  is  over  one  third  done. 
Am  pretty  sure  the  ist  of  March  will  see  it  done. 
Then  I  will  play. 

"The  weather  has  been  horrible  —  snow  after  snow, 
after  snow ;  raw  and  cloudy  days, —  I  have  sighed  for 
Southern  California. 


330       THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"But  in  the  house  I  have  been  comfortable  —  have 
not  once  seen  the  mercury  below  60  in  my  rooms.  The 
apartment  is  sunny  and  light  —  6th  floor  —  east 
windows  —  all  my  'traps'  as  Mr.  Jackson  calls  them 
came  in  well,  and  the  room  looks  as  if  I  had  lived  in 
it  all  my  life. 

"Now,  for  yourself  —  What  have  you  done?  How 
are  you  running  your  home? — Who  is  at  the  Villa?  Is 
Mrs.  Carr  well?  My  regards  to  her.  Don't  you  wish 
you  had  carried  home  a  wife?  I  am  exceedingly  disap 
pointed  that  you  didn't. 

"Miss  Sheriff  writes  me  that  a  suit  is  brought  for  the 
ejectment  of  the  Saboba  Indians.  Let  me  know  if  you 
have  heard  of  it  —  what  Brunson  &  Wells  say.  I  wrote 
to  Wells  a  long  time  ago  asking  for  information  about 
the  suit  by  which  the  Temecula  Indians  were  ejected  — 
but  he  has  not  replied. 

"What  do  you  hear  of  the  new  agent? 

"I  got  Miss  Sheriff's  salary  restored  to  old  figure. 

"I  have  just  sent  a  list  of  200  names  to  Com.  Price  to 
mail  our  report  to.  Of  course  you  had  copies.  I  feel 
well  satisfied  with  it.  Do  not  you?  I  wish  they'd  send 
us  again  somewhere.  They  never  will.  I've  had  my 
last  trip  as  a  'junketing  Female  Commissioner.' 

"Do  write  soon ; —  and  answer  all  my  questions  —  and 
don't  wait  for  me  to  reply,  but  write  again.  I  am  writ 
ing  from  1,000  to  2,000  words  a  day  on  the  story  and 
letters  are  impossible,  except  to  Mr.  Jackson.  Whether 
I  write  or  not  you  know  I  am  always  the  same  affectio 
nate  old  General. 

"  Yours  ever, 

"H.  J." 

This  letter  definitely  fixes  the  date  she  arrived  in 
New  York  —  November  20  —  where  she  felt  she  could 
best  finish  the  story .Ramona.  She  took  an  apartment, 
as  she  says,  on  the  6th  floor,  east  windows,  at  the 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  331 

Berkeley,  and  the  traps  to  which  she  refers  were  not 
only  the  usual  impedimenta  of  the  traveler,  but  a  num 
ber  of  Indian  articles  she  wished  to  surround  herself 
with  while  writing  the  story  and  which  she  had  col 
lected  from  the  Southern  California  Indians. 

The  Miss  Sheriff  referred  to  was  the  then  teacher 
of  the  Indian  School  at  Saboba  near  San  Jacinto, 
and  from  whom  she  had  first  heard  the  story  of  the 
killing  of  Juan  Diego  by  Sam  Temple,  and  which  was 
afterwards  incorporated  in  toto  in  Ramona.  Miss  Sheriff 
afterwards  married  and  lived  for  many  years  in  San 
Jacinto,  where  she  still  resides. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  present  here  in  connection 
with  Mrs.  Jackson's  interested  questioning  about  the 
Saboba  suit  of  ejectment,  a  letter  she  received  over  a 
year  later  from  Mr.  G.  Wiley  Wells,  which  gives  some 
idea  of  the  obstacles  one  had  to  encounter  who  was 
working  for  the  good  of  the  Indian.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  Mr.  Wells's  firm  had  offered  to 
conduct  all  cases  for  the  Indians  without  fee,  provided 
their  expenses  were  met  by  the  government  or  the 
contribution  of  philanthropic  individuals. 

"  Los  ANGELES,  CAL.  Mar,  3ist,  1885. 

"  MRS.  HELEN  JACKSON; 

Corner  of  Sutter  and  Leavenworth  Sts. 
San  Francisco,  Cal. 

"  My  dear  madam;  You  probably  will  not  believe  me 
when  I  say  that  until  this  moment,  I  have  been  unable 
to  give  your  letter  the  attention  necessary  in  order  to 
comply  with  your  request. 


332   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"  I  desired  very  much  to  see  you  while  here,  but  you 
inhibited  me  from  visiting  you  except  during  the  mid 
dle  of  the  day. 

"  It  was  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  visit  you  at  such 
hours;  as  I  very  seldom  have  any  time  during  the  day, 
which  I  can  call  my  own ;  and  very  seldom  in  the  even 
ings;  therefore  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  see  you 
while  you  were  here. 

"  I  am  sorry  indeed  that  you  did  not  find  relief  from 
our  climate.  I  hope  the  San  Francisco  atmosphere 
and  climate  may  be  more  congenial,  and  restore  you 
speedily  to  health. 

"  In  regard  to  theSaboba  case,  I  think  I  understand; 
you  desire  to  know  precisely  the  status  of  the  case  since 
it  came  into  the  hands  of  our  firm.  Soon  after  our  firm 
was  employed,  a  suit  in  ejectment  was  commenced  in 
San  Diego  County,  for  the  purpose  of  ejecting  the 
Indians  from  their  village. 

"Mr.  Hotchkiss  appeared  as  the  attorney  for  the 
party  commencing  the  suit.  We  appeared  in  the  case, 
and  our  Mr.  Brunson  went  to  San  Diego,  to  look  into 
the  matter  of  evidence,  made  arrangements  with  the 
attorney  that  the  matter  should  be  continued ;  awaiting 
negotiations  with  the  Department  for  the  sale  of  the  lands 
to  the  Government  for  the  benefit  of  theSaboba  Indians. 
I  went  once  to  San  Francisco  to  consult  with  the  Dis 
trict  Attorney  regarding  the  matter,  and  upon  my 
return  we  concluded  to  cause  a  removal  of  the  suit  to 
the  United  States  Court,  provided  there  was  no  adjust 
ment  outside.  We  telegraphed  to  the  Interior  Bureau 
asking  instructions  to  be  given  to  the  Indian  Agent 
at  San  Bernardino,  to  make  the  bond  required  by  law 
for  the  removal  to  the  United  States  Court  from  the 
State  Court;  for  we  well  knew  that  unless  the  case  could 
be  removed  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  State  Court, 
there  would  be  little  if  any  chance  for  the  Indians.  The 
Indian  Department  directed  the  Indian  Agent  to  call 
upon  us  and  make  the  bond;  about  this  time  Mr. 
Hotchkiss  agreed  to  continue  the  case  until  further 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  333 

negotiations  were  had  between  him  and  the  Depart 
ment  regarding  the  sale  of  the  property  to  the  Govern 
ment.  We  had  advanced  money  in  paying  our  expenses 
as  well  as  given  much  time  and  attention  to  the  matter. 
However  before  we  had  expended  any  money  in  trav 
elling  or  looking  up  evidence,  we  applied  to  the  Depart 
ment  for  an  allowance  not  to  exceed  two  hundred  dol 
lars,  under  an  agreement  which  we  had  with  the  Govern 
ment  to  appear  on  behalf  of  the  Indians.  This  the 
Department  very  readily  allowed.  After  our  expen 
ditures  had  been  made,  not  including  time,  we  presented 
our  bill  for  allowance;  whereupon  we  were  very  politely 
informed,  that  the  bill  had  been  disallowed,  for  thereason 
that  we  had  not  furnished  vouchers  for  every  item  of 
expenditure.  You  can  quite  well  understand  that  this 
xvould  be  an  utter  impossibility,  unless  we  had  been 
so  informed  before  we  had  made  any  expenditures;  for  it 
does  seem  rather  small  when  travelling  upon  a  train  to 
ask  the  restaurant,  or  eating-house  keeper  to  sign  a 
receipt  for  25  cents  for  a  meal  which  we  may  have  taken 
at  his  restaurant. 

"  Besides  with  the  sleeping-car  people,  it  is  quite  un 
usual  for  them  to  give  receipts  for  moneys  received  for 
the  occupations  of  berths.  The  expenditures  were 
made  up  of  small  items  of  this  character,  simply  cov 
ering  our  expenses. 

"  You  can  well  understand  that  it  gave  us  a  supreme 
disgust  for  this  kind  of  business.  However  notwith 
standing  the  very  unkind  and  ungenerous  treatment 
which  we  had  received  from  the  Department,  we  con 
tinued  our  efforts  on  behalf  of  the  Indians,  and  have 
prepared  ready  for  copying  the  petition  and  papers 
necessary  to  remove  the  case  from  San  Diego  to  the 
United  States  Circuit  Court. 

"  The  Government  cannot  expect  us  to  expend  our 
money  in  going  to  the  village,  or  paying  persons  to  go 
there  for  us,  hiring  teams  to  go  to  other  portions  of  the 
country  in  order  to  get  together  such  evidence  as  is 
necessary,  and  such  as  can  be  found,  in  order  to  defeat 


334   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  project  which  is  now  on  foot,  namely,  to  eject  these 
Indians  from  their  homes. 

"  I  am  firmly  impressed  that  the  legal  rights  to  the  land 
upon  which  that  village  stands,  is  vested  in  the  Indians 
who  have  resided  there  all  their  lives,  and  whose  an 
cestors  next  preceding  them  never  knew  any  other 
home.  It  is  a  burning  shame  and  disgrace  that  there 
is  no  more  interest  taken  in  the  welfare  of  these  Indians 
than  is  shown  on  the  part  of  the  Government ;  that  they 
should  expect  attorneys  to  lay  aside  their  business, 
spend  their  own  money  for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
them  from  the  onslaught  made  by  men  who  are  anxious 
to  obtain  their  homes,  is  something  which  seems  to  me 
to  be  unreasonable.  While  we  are  willing,  and  shall, 
since  we  have  been  retained,  do  all  that  we  can  to  pro 
tect  them  as  far  as  the  law  will  protect  them,  I  am 
now  prepared  to  say  that  we  shall  not  travel  to  and 
from  San  Francisco  and  pay  our  expenses  while  board 
ing  there,  and  surrender  our  business,  xvithout  any  ex 
pectation  of  being  reimbursed  for  the  money  expended, 
much  less  for  our  services  and  time  employed  in  defend 
ing  these  Indians.  We  will  file  the  papers  and  give  all 
the  help  and  assistance  we  can  to  the  United  States 
District  Attorney;  but  we  do  not  feel  inclined  to  go, 
unless  the  Government  sees  fit  to  reimburse  us  for  what 
we  have  already  expended. 

"If  this  matter  is  properly  attended  to  as  it  should 
be,  the  parties  now  seeking  to  eject  these  Indians  from 
their  homes  can  never  accomplish  their  object. 

"  I  feel  that  it  is  an  outrage,  and  an  attempt  to  rob 
them  of  that  which  the  Government  is  bound  to  protect 
them  in. 

"I  am  very  truly  and 

"  Sincerely  your  friend, 

"G.  WILEY  WELLS." 

To  return   to  Mrs.1  Jackson's  letter.     Her  earnest 
ness  to  complete  Ramona  is  seen  in  her  seclusion,  her 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  335 

resolve  to  "go  slower  "  and  "  to  run  no  risks  what 
ever  till  after  I  get  this  story  done."  And  one  thou 
sand  to  two  thousand  words  a  day  meant  rapid  progress. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Charles  Dudley  Warner  visited 
her  and  wrote: 

"  The  theme  had  complete  possession  of  her;  chap 
ter  after  chapter  flowed  from  her  pen  as  easily  as  one 
would  write  a  letter  to  a  friend.  .  .  .  When  she 
became  interested  in  the  Indians,  and  especially  in 
the  hard  fate  of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California, 
all  her  nature  was  fused  for  the  time  in  a  lofty  en 
thusiasm  of  pity  and  indignation,  and  all  her  powers 
seemed  to  be  concentrated  to  one  purpose.  ...  I  am 
certain  that  she  could  have  had  no  idea  what  the  novel 
would  be  to  the  people  of  Southern  California,  or  how 
it  would  identify  her  name  with  all  this  region,  and 
make  so  many  scenes  in  it  places  of  pilgrimage  and 
romantic  interest  for  her  sake." 

Yet  though  she  was  so  deeply  and  seriously  inter 
ested  in  her  story  and  what  she  hoped  it  would  do  for 
the  Indians  she  had  so  learned  to  love,  her  saving 
sense  of  humor  allows  her  to  joke  with  Mr.  Kinney 
about  the  criticisms  that  had  been  made  upon  her  as  a 
"  junketing  female  commissioner."  Hers  was  a  junket 
ing  with  a  purpose,  and  it  was  undoubtedly  because 
she  had  so  thoroughly  accomplished  that  purpose,  - 
had  so  completely  and  mercilessly  exposed  to  the 
world  the  hideous  inhumanity  of  the  whites  in  their 
treatment  of  the  Indians,  the  dishonorable  violation 
of  all  treaties  by  incompetent  and  corrupt  agents, 


336   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  incompetency  of  the  Indian  department,  even 
the  open  perfidy  of  men  high  in  the  counsels  of  the 
nation  —  that  she  was  assured  "  they  "  would  never 
send  her  again. 

February  20, 1884,  she  again  writes  from  the  Berke- 
ley: 

",DEAR  Co: 

"  Your  first  letter  made  me  wretched.  If  we  had 
'  been  and  gone '  and  got  a  rascally  firm  set  over 
those  Indian  matters  I  thought  we  might  better  never 
have  been  born. 

"  But  your  second  reassures  me. 

"  I  sent  you  one  of  the  reports.  You  can  get  all 
you  want,  I  think,  by  writing  to  Commissioner  Price. 
I  sent  him  a  long  list  of  names  to  mail  it  to.  They  said  I 
could  have  all  I  wanted.  Of  course  you  can  too.  There 
is  a  bill  of  some  sort,  prepared  and  before  Congress.  I 
have  written  to  Teller  asking  for  it,  or  sum  and  sub 
stance.  He  does  not  reply.  None  of  them  care  for 
anything  now,  except  the  election. 

"  I  am  working  away  at  the  story  (Ramona)  — 
twenty  chapters  done.  I'd  like  to  consult  you.  Do 
you  think  it  will  do  any  harm  to  depart  from  the  chrono 
logical  sequence  of  events  in  my  story? 

"  For  dramatic  purposes  I  have  put  the  Temecula 
ejectment  before  the  first  troubles  in  San  Pasquale. 

"  Will  anybody  be  idiot  enough  to  make  a  point  of 
that?  I  am  not  writing  history.  I  hope  the  story 
is  good. 

"  I  wish  you  could  see  my  rooms.  What  with 
Indian  baskets,  the  things  from  Marsh's,  and  antique 
rugs,  they  are  really  quite  charming,  luckily  for  me 
who  have  been  shut  up  in  them  by  the  solid  work. 

"  Such    weather    was    never    seen.     There    are    no 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  337 

words  —  proper    ones  —  suitable    to    describe    it.     I 
sigh  for  San  Gabriel  sunshine. 

"  I  hope  you  are  well  and  jolly.     I'm  awfully  sorry 
you  are  not  married.     Good  night.     Always 
"  Affectionately  yours, 

"  GENERAL. 

"  Regards  to  Mrs.  Crank,  Mrs.  C — ,  etc.     I  don't 

wonder  the  latter  does  not  succeed  as  landlady.     I'd 
as  soon  board  with  a  cyclone." 

Here  is  the  letter  which  tells  to  Mr.  Kinney  the 
story  of  the  accident  that  was  the  chief  cause  of  her 
death.  From  it  one  can  see  the  active,  energetic  mind 
that  animated  her  body;  and  at  the  same  time  the 
vein  of  pessimism  that  was  within  her  soul  —  the  fear 
that  bones  would  not  unite  and  that  she  might  have  to 
limp.  It  also  tells  of  her  story,  The  Hunter  Cats  of 
Connorloa,  and  locates  the  time  of  its  completion  and 
publication. 

"COLORADO  SPRINGS,  July  16,   1884. 

"  DEAR  OLD  Co: 

"  What  has  become  of  you? 

"Is  it  love  —  politics  —  or  what? 

"  I  have  been  a  long  time  waiting  for  a  word  from 
you. 

"  Bad  news  to  tell  you,  Co.  How  sorry  you  will 
be  for  me.  I  do  really  hate  to  tell  it,  but  I  may  as  well. 
I  have  broken  my  leg  —  left  leg  —  horrid  break. 
About  as  bad  as  it  could  be.  Fell  from  top  to  bottom 
of  my  stairs!  Saturday  eve  June  28.  In  bed,  still  — - 
leg  in  plaster  —  have  suffered  fearfully — worst  over 
now.  Am  as  comfortable  as  is  possible  under  the  cir 
cumstances  • —  bed  in  dining-room  —  three  splendid 


338   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

women  "  (to  take  care  of  her,  undoubtedly),  — "weather 
mercifully  cool  and  moist  —  all  going  well. 

"  They  say  I'll  have  a  good  leg  again.  I  don't  be 
lieve  it.  Bones  53  years  old  don't  knit  so  easily  — • 
big  bone  broken  twice,  only  i\  inches  apart  — •  smashed 
in.  Little  bone  broken  short  across.  Rarely  a  worse 
break  seen.  — •  Won't  I  hate  limping!  —  How  did  I  fall? 
No  guessing- — going  too  fast — -but  then  that  I've 
always  done!  I  could  recall  nothing,  after  the  first 
tripping  of  my  foot,  and  a  vain  clutch  at  the  balus 
trade.  If  we  had  had  a  free  hand  rail  as  we  ought  I 
should  not  have  fallen. 

"  I  had  been  at  home  just  three  weeks,  working  like 
a  Trojan  at  the  house  —  new  shades — -cur tains ^ — •• 
furniture  covers  —  rugs  —  china  —  glass  — • '  traps  ' 
—  etc.  Never  so  pretty  before  — -  never  did  I  have  such 
a  sense  of  delight  in  prospect  of  the  summer.  July 
1st  I  was  to  sit  down  to  my  "work  - — -  a  new  story. 

"  I  hope  you  are  reading  Ramona. 

"  Do  write  and  tell  me  about  yourself. 
"  Yours  always, 

"GENERAL." 

"  P.S.  Plate  proofs  of  The  Hunter  Cats  of  Connorloa 
have  just  come.  It  is  a  jolly  little  story.  You  will 
laugh  at  your  simulacrum!  It  will  not  be  out  till 
holidays.  Marble's  pictures  are  bad.  Poor  fellow,  he 
can't  draw.  It  is  no  use." 

September  28, 1884,  she  writes  from  ColoradoSprings : 
"  DEAR  Co: 

"  I  am  thinking  of  coming  to  So.  California  as  soon 
as  I  can  hobble !  I  must  fly  from  here  before  November, 
but  I  do  not  feel  quite  up  to  shutting  myself  in  for  the 
winter  as  I  must  in  New  York.  So  I  propose  to  run 
across  to  your  snug  seashore  —  for  two  or  three  months 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  339 

of  sunshine  and  outdoors  —  before  going  to  New  York 
Do  you  not  think  that  wise? 

"  I  wrote  to  Mrs.  W in  San  Diego  —  the  only 

place  I  know  in  all  California  where  there  was  real 
comfort.  Also  I  like  the  San  Diego  climate  best. 
But  I  learned  to  my  great  disappointment  that  she  had 
gone  to  Los  Angeles.  The  N's  urge  my  corning  to  a  new 
hotel  in  San  Diego  — •  but  I  have  a  mortal  dread  of  Cali 
fornia  hotels.  Do  you  know  anything  of  it?- — And 
do  you  know  where  Mrs.  W's  house  in  Los  Angeles  is? 
If  it  is  on  high  ground?  .... 

.  .  .  "  I  shall  bring  my  Effie  with  me — -too  helpless  yet 
to  travel  alone.  Goodness!  What  martyrdom  crutches 
are!  While  I  was  stationary  in  bed  it  was  fun  in  com 
parison  with  this.  But  I  am  a  sinner  to  grumble,  I 
shall  walk  with  one  crutch  and  one  cane,  next  week, 'the 
doctor  thinks,  and  that  is  great  luck  for  such  a  bad  com 
pound  fracture  as  mine;  and  at  my  age.  My  weight 
also  is  a  sad  hindrance.  If  I  weighed  only  125  or  so 
they  say  I  could  walk  with  a  cane  now.  Ultimately  — 
they  insist  —  my  leg  will  be  as  good  as  ever,  and  'no 
lameness.  I  shall  believe  it  when  I  see  it!  .  .  . 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  C— the  other  day.  Strange, 
that  disorderly  chaotic  woman  writes  a  precise  method 
ical  hand,  clear  as  type,  characterless  in  its  precision; 
and  I,  who  am  a  martinet  of  ardent  system,  write 
—  well  —  as  you  see!  What  nonsense  to  say  hand 
writing  shows  character. 

"I  have  ordered  a  copy  of  The  Hunter  Cats  of  Connor- 
loa  sent  to  you.  You  will  laugh  to  see  yourself  saddled 
with  an  orphan  niece  and  nephew.  I  hope  you  won't 
dislike  the  story.  I  propose  in  the  next  to  make  you 
travel  all  through  Southern  California  with  '  Susy  and 
Rea  ' — and  tell  the  Indian  story  over  again.  I  only 

hope  that  scalawag  C ,  of  Los  Angeles,  will  come 

across  the  story,  and  see  himself  set  forth  in  it.  He 
will  recognize  the  story  of  Fernando,  the  old  Indian  he 
turned  out  at  San  Gabriel. 

-"  As  you  recollect  the  situation  of  lands  at  Saboba  was 


340   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

there  good  land  enough  in  that  neighborhood  for  those 
Indians  to  get  homes?  The  Indian  appropriation  bill 
passed  in  July  has  a  clause  enabling  Indians  to  take 
land  under  homestead  laws,  with  no  fees. 

"  What  are  Brunson  and  Wells  doing?  Anything? 
AVhat  is  the  state  of  the  Saboba  matter?  But  I  sup 
pose  you  can  think  of  nothing  save  politics  till  next  Dec. 

"  Write   soon.     I    want    to   know   about   Mrs.    W's 
house  —  if  it  is  high,  sunny,  airy,  etc. 
"  Yours  always, 

"GENERAL." 

The  above  letter,  though  written  while  she  was  still 
suffering  from  the  strain  of  her  accident,  shows  no 
diminution  of  her  keen  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
Indians  and  her  watchful  care  on  their  behalf. 

Early  in  December  she  writes  from  Los  Angeles: 

"  DEAR  Co: 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  and  please  thank  your 
wife  from  me,  for  your  kind  invitation  to  come  and  spend 
a  few  days  with  you.  Nothing  would  give  me  greater 
pleasure  if  I  were  on  my  legs  —  but  it  is  quite  out  of  the 
question  in  my  present  condition.  I  am  too  helpless 
and  troublesome  to  be  comfortable  anywhere  except 
in  boarding-place.  Not  that  I  am  comfortable  anywhere 
—  Heaven  save  the  mark !  —  outside  my  own  house, 
but  visiting  would  be  to  me  intolerable.  You  can  un 
derstand  I  am  sure.  If  I  get  on  my  feet  I'D  come 
before  I  go  away  and  spend  a  day  or  two  with  you. 
Sure:  —  but  am  dubious  about  my  prospects.  I  had 

to  call  in  Dr.  De  S last  Monday  for  Effie,  my  maid, 

who  had  a  bad  fall  from  a  barrel,  (of  all  idiotic  things 
to  step  up  on  a  barrel)  and  wrenched  her  knee  badly. 
So  as  he  was  here  I  consulted  him  about  my  own  sound  leg, 
which  has  been  for  two  months  so  sore  and  lame  in  the 
hip,  that  it  bothers  me  to  move.  He  says  I  must  leave 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  341 

off  trying  to  walk!  Save  it  all  I  can.  There  is  an 
inflammatory  condition  there,  from  the  long  over 
strain  of  doing  double  duty  and  I  must  make  up  my 
mind  to  be  on  crutches  for  months!  —  Cheerful!  —  All 
my  prancing  about  on  the  verandah,  and  trying  to  do 
all  I  can  has  been  a  mistake.  I  must  do  as  little  as  I 
can  manage  to  get  about  with!  The  broken  leg  is 
gaining,  and  except  for  my  "whole  leg  I  could  walk  with 
a  cane  now!  Is  not  that  maddening?  'The  dog  it 
was  that  died!'  You  see  my  outlook  is  not  bright 
just  now.  Effie  in  bed  with  a  wrenched  knee,  uncer 
tain  yet  whether  I  shall  not  have  to  send  her  home.  If 
I  hadn't  had  the  second  woman,  the  trained  nurse  and 
massage  rubber  along  I  can't  imagine  what  would  have 
become  of  me. 

"  Moreover,  I  do  not  much  like  this  place  —  there 
is  an  icy  chill  in  these  ground  floor  rooms  —  too  close 
to  the  earth.  I  half  regret  not  having  gone  to  San 
Diego  and  risked  the  new  hotel  —  but  it  is  so  much 
more  interesting  here.  I  hate  to  go  there.  Tell  me  hon 
estly,  do  you  think  this  is  a  wholesome  locality?  — 
I  can't  shake  off  the  idea  that  it  is  malarious.  I  recol 
lect  you  said  in  your  letter  that  Mrs.  W's  was  on  '  adobe 
ground.7  Is  that  against  it?  Do  drive  up  here  some 
morning.  I  am  dying  to  have  an  Indian  talk  with  you. 
"  Yours  always, 

"  GENERAL." 

The  next  letter  is  dated   Los   Angeles,    Saturday 
morning,  December  27,  1884: 

"  DEAR  Co: 

**  What  a  tantalizing  thing  it  is  to  be  sure,  —  to  have 
been  here  six  weeks  and  have  had  only  two  sidewalk 
glimpses  of  you!  When  I  found  by  the  enclosed  note 
that  you  had  spent  last  night  at  Mrs.  KimbalPs  I  was 
vexe4  enough.  Why  did  you  not  come  up  here?  And 
why  did  I  not  think  to  ask  you  to  come  up  here!  I 


342   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

somehow  took  it  for  granted  you  were  at  some  friend's 
house. 

"  When  do  you  set  off  for  New  Orleans?  Or  was  it 
only  a  newspaper  tale  that  you  were  going  there?  I 
think  you  and  your  wife  will  have  a  hearty  laugh  over 
this  note  of  the  landlady  of  the  K — — •  mansion.  By 
the  way,  it  is  odd  that  a  person  who  knocks  out  the  front 
teeth  of  the  English  language,  so  to  speak,  whenever  she 
opens  her  mouth,  should  be  able  to  write  it  as  fairly  as 
does  Mrs.  — — •. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  Christmas?  I  suppose  you 
are  so  awfully  jolly  nowadays  that  you  don't  care 
whether  it  rains  or  not  —  I  do  —  and  a  few  more  weeks 
like  the  last  would  drive  me  away.  However,  I  have 
driven  out,  spite  of  the  wind,  every  day  but  Christmas 
Day.  I  was  to  have  eaten  my  Christmas  dinner  with 
the  Lees,  but  could  not  go,  of  course. 

"  My  great  Christmas  gift  is  here  —  the  Rubaiyut, 
with  Vedder's  drawings.  It  alone  is  worth  your 
climbing  this  hill  if  you  do  not  come  for  anything  else! 
I  am  walking  a  bit  better  — •  can  take  a  few  steps  with 
canes,  instead  of  crutches  — •  and  do  most  of  my  hob 
bling  in  my  room  with  only  one  crutch.  At  this  rate, 
in  about  six  months,  I  can  walk  fairly  with  one  cane, 
I  should  think! 

"  Did  you  forget,  or  purposely  ignore  my  question 
about  adobe  soil?     I  am  not  easy  in  my  mind  in  re 
gard  to  this  locality.     I  don't  want  to  get  malariously 
poisoned,  just  now.     Do  bring  your  wife  to  see  me. 
"  Yours  ever, 

"GENERAt." 

On  Thursday,  March  12,  1885,  she  writes: 

"  DEAR  Co: 

"Kismet! 

"  Long  Beach  made  me  worse.  I  am  very,  very  ill 
— go  to  S.  Francisco  to-morrow.  Must  have  better 
medical  advice,  and  more  comfort; 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  343 

"  Miss  T lias  found  a  place  for  me,— -corner  Sutler 

and  Leavenworth  Sts.     Hope  it  is  not  full  of  sewer  gas! 
Your  note  just  back  from  Long  Beach.     Too  bad !    Too 
bad!     If  I  get  desperately  ill  in  S.  F.  I  shall  telegraph 
for  you  to  come  up  and  look  after  me.     Will  you? 
"  Your  aff. 

"GENERAL." 

There  are  three  more  letters,  all  of  which  show  her 
deeply  sympathetic  and  affectionate  nature.  They 
are  as  follows: 

"  80 1  Leavenworth  St. 

April  i,  1885 
"DEAR  Coi  . 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  thought  so.  Any  body  well 
enough  to  journey  to  S.  F.  wouldn't  seem  to  be  in  such 
bad  case.  But  it  was  true  —  I  came  up  here  on  my  last 
shred  of  nerve  force,  and  collapsed  at  once.  I  have  had 
a  terrible  poisoning.  It  will  be  seven  weeks  next  Sat. 
since  there  has  been  any  proper  action  of  either  stomach 
or  bowels, —  simply  six  weeks  of  starvation,  that  is  all, 
and  the  flesh  has  rained  off  me.  I  must  have  lost  at 
least  forty  pounds,  and  I  am  wan  and  yellow  in  the 
face.  Nothing  ever  before  so  utterly  upset  me.  Every 
body  cried  that  bade  me  good  bye,  I  looked  so  ill.  Even 
Miller,  my  driver,  stood  speechless,  before  me  hi  the 
cars  — with  his  eyes  full  of  tears!  —  Dear  old  Mr. 
Coronel  put  his  arms  round  me  sighing:  '  Excuse  me, 
I  must!'  Embraced  me  in  Spanish  fashion  with  a 
half  sob.  I  know  they  none  of  them  expected  me  to 
live  — •  which  did  not  cheer  me  up  much.  I  seemed  to 
be  better  at  first  after  getting  here,  but  had  a  relapse 
last  week  —  diarrhoea  as  bad  as  ever  and  stomach 
worse.  I  am  in  bed  —  take  only  heated  milk  and  gr 
and  sit  up  long  enough  to  have  my  bed  made.  It  is 
a  bad  job,  old  fellow,  and  I  doubt  very  much  if  I  ever 
pull  out  of  it.  It's  all  right,  only  if  I  had  been  asked  to 
choose  the  one  citv  of  all  I  know  in  which  I  would  have 


344   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

most  disliked  to  be  slain,   it  would  have  been  San 
Francisco. 

"  Thursday,  A.M.  Your  note  is  just  here.  Sorry  you 
have  to  change  cooks.  Changing  stomachs  is  worse 
however.  Don't  grumble,  lest  a  worse  thing  befall 
you.  Give  as  much  of  my  love  as  your  wife  will  accept,  to 
her.  I  liked  your  calling  her  the  '  Young  H.H.'  There 
is  no  doubt  she  looks  as  I  did  at  twenty. 

"...  I  shall  never  be  'well  again,  Co.  I  know 
it  with  a  certain  knowledge.  Nobody  at  my  age  with 
my  organization  ever  really  got  over  a  severe  blood 
poisoning.  My  doctor  is  a  good  one,  a  young  man  — 
Dr.  Boericke,  834  Sutter  St.  I  like  him  heartily.  He 
is  clever,  enthusiastic,  European  taught.  All  that 
homeopathy  can  do  for  me  I  shall  have,  and  you  know 
the  absoluteness  of  my  faith  in  homeopathy.  Good  bye. 
I'll  let  you  know  how  it  goes.  Don't  give  yourself  a 
moment's  worry. 

"  Yours  always, 

"  GENERAL." 

"  P.S.  Can't  you  d«  something  to  get  Rust  ap 
pointed  Indian  agent.  I  have  heard  quite  directly  that 
Lamar  is  full  of  warm  sympathy  for  the  Indians.  Do 
try,  Co.,  and  accomplish  something  for  them.  You 
might,  if  you  would  determine  to." 

There  are  several  other  letters  of  a  later  date,  but 
though  interesting  they  are  of  a  too  personal  nature 
to  be  reproduced  here.  There  are,  however,  two 
personal  letters  which  are  most  characteristic  and 
interesting  and  too  good  not  to  quote.  The  recipient's 
name  is  withheld.  The  first  letter  is  dated  from  Col 
orado  Springs,  October  5,  1884: 

"  DEAR  .... 

"  There  are  but  two  things  in  life  which  could  have 
pleased  me  more  than  the  news  in  the  last  letter  of  yours. 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  345 

Really  in  love,  you  are,  are  you?  '  Way  in  deep  '  —  the 
only  way  there's  any  use  in  being.  I  always  hoped  you 
had  it  in  you,  but  your  cold-blooded  way  of  talking 
about  '  a  wife/  made  me  a  little  afraid. 

"  Now  are  you  not  glad  you  didn't  marry  that  horrid 
W—  —girl! 

"  I  want  to  know  all  about  Miss 

Dark  or  light 

Short  or  tall 

Stout  (!)  or  slender. 

Pretty  ?  —  (of  course). 

Vivacious  or  quiet? 

Gentle  or  will-full? 

"  I  hope  the  latter.  I  hope  she'll  make  you  mind! 
But  oh  dear,  oh  dear,  why  do  you  come  to  Colorado 
when  I  am  away  —  above  all  things  when  I  am  in 
Southern  California!  You  know  I  always  have  to  fly  in 
October  for  fear  of  our  snows  which  set  in  then,  and  in 
variably  give  me  bronchitis.  Last  year  I  was  deluded 
into  staying  on  until  the  2Oth  when  we  had  a  heavy 
snow-storm  and  in  twenty-four  hours  I  was  in  bed  with  a 
sharp  attack  from  which  I  did  not  recover  for  three 
weeks. 

"  I  fear  I  shall  not  get  off  before  the  20  th  this  year, 
for  I  am  still  too  helpless  on  my  crutches  to  dare  to 
travel.  But  just  as  soon  as  I  dare  I  am  going  to  take 
Effie  and  come  to  So.  Cal.  for  two  or  three  months  of 
sunshine  and  out-doors  before  encountering  the  Atlantic 
seaboard  winter.  After  this  fourteen  weeks'  confine 
ment  I  do  not  feel  in  case  to  be  shut  up  all  winter  as  I 
must  be  in  N.  York. 

"  I  am  endlessly  chagrined  that  you  must  needs 
have  fixed  your  wedding  trip  to  Colorado  at  a  time 
when  I  can't  have  you  in  my  house.  How  I  should 
have  enjoyed  putting  you  in  my  blue  room !  And 
Mr.  Jackson  even  is  never  here  now,  except  for  a 
Sunday,  or  over  one  night.  He  is  in  Denver  all  the 
time!  It  is  too,  too  bad.  Just  put  off  being  married, 


346   THROUGH  RAMON A'S  COUNTRY 

i 

will  you,  till  next  June,  and  come  and  spend  a  month 
with  me  then !  But  you  can  run  over  any  time,  —  that 
is  one  comfort. 

"  I  am  vain  enough  to  think  (which  vexes  me  still 
more)  that  it  must  have  been  chiefly  to  see  me  and  show 
HER.to  me'that  you  were  going  to  take  your  journey  in 
this  direction.  You  surely  would  not  think  of  taking 
a  journey  to  Colorado  for  pleasure,  in  November!  You 
are  liable  to  strike  far  worse  weather  here  then  than  you 
would  in  New  York!  —  Sleet  and  ice  and  snow  storms 
I  have  seen  here  in  October,  as  bad  as  midwinter  in 
Massachusetts.  To  be  sure  they  do  not  last  long  — 
and  there  may  be  bright  sunny  weather  also.  But  there 
is  no  dependence  to  be  placed  on  this  climate  after  Oct. 
I  st.  As  for  that  matter  there  is  none  at  any  season.  The 
8th  and  9th  of  Sept.  were  freezing  cold  —  big  fires  I  had 
all  day  — •  vines  killed,  etc.  —  and  here  it  is  Oct.  5  so 
warm  and  bright,  I  am  sitting  on  the  veranda!  and 
the  sun  is  almost  too  warm. 

"  I  wish  you  would  give  my  love  —  if  I  may?  —  to 
your  M  — — •  Tell  her  I  implore  her  to  like  me!  I  air, 
afraid  she  won't.  If  she  is  your  opposite,  how  can  she? 
That's  the  worst  of  loving  either  men  or  women  before 
they  are  married ! 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  old  fellow,  and  give  you  all 
the  happiness  possible  on  this  earth. 
"  Ever  affty  vours, 

"H.J." 

"  P.S.  You  will  wonder  what  the  two  things  are 
which  would  have  pleased  me  more  yesterday  than 
your  letter.  First,  to  have  a  whole  leg  in  place  of  this 
broken  one  (only  fairly  well  patched).  Second,  to  have 
Mr.  Jackson  tell  me  that  he  would  give  up  Colorado  and 
go  to  live  at  some  Christian  altitude,  and  before  settling 
down,  travel  for  a  few  years. — • — • — -I'll  never  have 
either  of  these  two  things,  so  I'm  glad  you  have  yonr 
wife!" 


LETTERS  BY  THE  AUTHOR  347 

Isn't  that  letter  a  delicious  bit  of  self-revealment? 
To  me  it  is  one  of  the  most  precious  bits  of  real  auto 
biography  in  American  literature.  So  woman-like, 
to  want  to  know  all  about  the  appearance  of  her  friend's 
new  wife,  and  also  ."  implore  her  to  like  me."  How 
naive,  that  sentence:  "That's  the  worst  of  loving 
either  men  or  women  before  they  are  married." 

On  December8,  1884,  she  wrote  to  the  new  couple 
from  Los  Angeles  as  follows: 

"  I  am  glad  you  liked  the  books.  After  I  had 
ordered  it  done  I  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  come 
over  me  that  it  was  a  conceited  sort  of  gift  to  send  to 
you  two  —  but  I  let  it  go.  In  my  Bits  of  Talk  on 
Home  Matters  you  will  find  the  sum  and  substance 
of  my  notions  about  a  home  and  about  children. 
They  will  seem  cranky  to  you,  I  dare  say,  but  by  the 
time  you're  as  old  as  I  am  you'll  be  nearer  my  M'ay 
of  thinking." 

The  letters  here  given  are  some  of  the  latest  the 
gifted  author  ever  wrote,  for,  on  August  12,  1885,  she 
succumbed  to  her  disabilities  and  passed  over  into  the 
beyond. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE    STAGING    OF    RAMONA 

TT  is  an  interesting  fact  to  note,  in  this  day  of  much 
•*•  prating  about  "  art  for  art's  sake,"  that  not  only  was 
Ramona  a  novel  "  with  a  purpose,"  but  the  first  dra 
matic  presentation  of  the  play  was  also  "  with  a  pur 
pose."  It  was  given  in  the  Mason  Opera  House,  Los 
Angeles,  on  the  evening  of  February  27,  1905,  "  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Los  Angeles  Section,  El  Camino 
Real  Association." 

El  Camino  Real  —  in  plain  English,  the  King's 
Highway  —  was  the  road,  rude,  crude  and  primitive, 
that  used  to  connect  the  old  Missions  from  La  Paz  on 
the  south,  up  the  peninsula  in  Baja  California,  to  San 
Diego  in  Alia  California,  and  then  on  and  up  to  Sonoma, 
where  the  last  of  the  chain,  San  Francisco  Solano,  was 
located. 

Both  for  its  practical  and  sentimental  benefits  it  has 
been  earnestly  desired,  for  some  years,  to  rehabilitate 
this  ancient  highway,  and,  as  far  as  is  practical,  make 
of  it  a  good  modern  road  suitable  for  farmers  and  auto 
mobiles,  and  thus  harness  use  and  beauty  in  the  service 
of  the  best  interests  of  the  state.  Such  a  road  would 
necessarily  be  of  inestimable  benefit  to  the  farmers 


THE  STAGING  OF  RAMONA  349 

and  others  living  on  and  near  it,  and  it  would  be  a  great 
attraction  to  wealthy  tourists  with  automobiles  or  who 
wished  to  ride,  drive  or  tally-ho  from  point  to  point  of 
interest  in  the  state.  And  what  objects  could  be  more 
interesting  than  the  old  Missions,  the  oldest  evidences 
of  advancing  civilization  in  the  state,  where  romance 
was  born  and  flourished,  around  which  cluster  mem 
ories  of  a  race  now  fast  dying  out,  and  of  Godlike 
heroic  service  for  them  by  priests  whose  motives  they 
could  not  even  faintly  comprehend;  buildings  that 
have  given  to  the  United  States  its  only  indigenous 
architecture;  surely  the  densest  mind  could  see  the 
practical  and  sentimental  advantages  that  would 
accrue  from  making  these  historic  locations  easy  of 
access  by  means  of  one  great,  magnificent,  well-kept 
highway. 

In  his  humorous  way,  Charles  F.  Lummis,  the  virile 
editor  of  Out  West,  set  forth  these  advantages  in  his 
editorial  pages  and  aroused  a  strong  public  sentiment 
in  favor  of  the  road.  One  of  the  results  was  the 
dramatization  of  Ramona,  by  Miss  Virginia  Calhoun 
and  General  Johnstone  Jones,  and  its  presentation 
throughout  the  state,  with  the  hope  that  money  would 
be  raised  thereby  to  assist  in  the  rehabilitation  of  El 
Camino  Real. 

Both  for  its  sapient  comments  on  Ramona  and  its 
historic  value  as  the  introductory  word  to  the  "  book  " 
used  at  the  first  presentation,  I  find  pleasure  in  quoting 
verbatim  Mr.  Lummis's  foreword: 

"It  is  a  curious  fact  that  of  all  the  books  that  have 


350   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

ever  been  written  in  America,  the  two  which  have  had 
the  deepest  and  the  longest  influence  on  American 
public  sentiment  and  American  politics  have  been 
written  by  women,  and  that  both  were  novels. 

"  It  was  a  happy  critic  who  first  called  Ramona  the 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  of  the  Indian.  The  California 
classic  has  less  of  humor  than  Mrs.  Stowe's  master 
piece;  it  has  greater  truthfulness  to  fact,  and  a  con 
siderably  higher  literary  quality.  But  despite  their 
differences,  the  two  books  form  a  class  by  themselves. 
Each  is  the  flower  of  a  crusade.  In  each  case  the 
author  had  done  harder,  more  scientific  and  more 
convincing  work  for  her  cause  —  and  in  each  case  this 
more  serious  achievement  is  almost  unknown.  Each 
had,  with  all  her  sentiment,  the  saving  common  sense 
to  realize  that  great  reforms  are  wrought,  not  by 
politicians,  but  by  public  sentiment,  and  that  this 
sentiment  can  be  aroused,  not  by  statistics,  no  matter 
how  damning,  but  by  a  proper  appeal  to  the  emo 
tions —  and  each  had  that  right  to  such  appeal;  the 
right  of  an  informed  and  indignant  sympathy  of  her 
own. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  call  both  these  novels  epoch- 
making.  Slavery  had,  sometime,  to  cease;  but  it 
could  not  possibly  have  ceased  so  soon  nor  nearly  so 
soon  if  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  had  not  been  read  in  almost 
every  home,  in  almost  every  language;  if  it  had  not 
planted  in  every  home  that  sentiment  which  forced 
statesmen  against  their  politic  will.  No  other  work 
of  fiction  in  the  world  has  ever  sold  so  many  copies. 


THE  STAGING  OF  RAMONA  351 

It  is  still  being  read,  for  the  human  interest  which  is 
its  heart  will  never  die,  even  though  the  momentary 
political  question  which  brought  it  forth  seems  to  us 
now  almost  forgotten  history. 

"  The  appeal  of  Ramona  is  to  a  narrower  constituency 
perhaps  —  perhaps  it  is  of  less  imperishable  quality. 
It  is  possibly  for  this  very  reason  that  it  lacks  that 
grace  of  humor  which  does  so  much  to  keep  alive  its 
prototype  —  indeed,  while  the  patriarchal  slave  sys 
tem  of  the  South  was  full  of  fun  as  well  as  tragedy, 
our  Indian  problem  has  hardly  the  possibility  of  a 
smile  in  all  of  it. 

"But  despite  the  artistic  sadness  of  Ramona  it  has 
become  beyond  question  one  of  the  World  Books,  and 
beyond  comparison  the  California  book.  It  has  been 
translated  into  all  languages,  and  is  read  to-day  by 
probably  as  many  people  as  when  it  was  first  published 
a  generation  ago.  We  are  used,  nowadays,  to  '  success 
ful  novels,'  which  sell  their  hundred  thousand  copies 
this  year,  and  next  year  are  forgotten  —  and  never 
leave  a  scratch  upon  our  ethics,  our  standards  or  our 
anything  else.  But  this  wonderful  book  —  which 
grows  more  wonderful  the  more  one  reads  and  under 
stands  it  —  has  taken  permanent  life,  as  it  deserves. 

Ramona  is  pure  fiction.  Not  one  of  its  characters 
lived.  Among  all  the  falsehoods  told  to  tourists  per 
haps  none  are  more  petty  than  those  of  people  who 
'  knew  Ramona,'  who  '  knew  Alessandro,'  and  so  forth. 
All  the  characters  were  suggested  by  actual  people; 
and  all  of  them  are  truthful,  though  not  real.  This  is 


352   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  enduring  beauty  of  the  book ;  that  it  is  not  a  news 
paper  report  of  actual  occurrences,  nor  is  it  a  photo 
graph  of  an  event.  It  is  in  the  high  sense  a  work  of 
art,  an  absolutely  truthful  painting  of  conditions  and 
of  characteristics.  There  could  be  a  '  Ramona '  and  an 
'Alessandro'  —  in  fact,  there  have  been  many  who  have 
gone  to  make  this  composite  photograph.  The  picture 
of  oppression  of  the  Indians  is  not  overdrawn  —  nor 
are  the  potential  characters  a  whit  more  idealized  than 
we  universally  demand  in  a  novel  of  straight  American 
life. 

<f  In  her  local  color  Mrs.  Jackson  was  almost  photo 
graphic.  In  a  rather  thorough  familiarity  with  all 
writings  upon  the  West,  I  know  of  no  one  who  has  so 
accurately  drawn  things  as  they  are.  The  description 
of  the  '  home  ranch '  —  the  old  Spanish  principality  of 
Camulos  —  made  from  an  acquaintance  between  trains, 
is  one  of  the  most  surprising  tours  de  force  that  I  know 
of  in  literature. 

"  More  than  any  other  one  thing,  this  one  book  has 
brought  about  the  reform  which  has  been  slowly  work 
ing  for  twenty  years  in  our  government  Indian  policies. 
We  are  sometimes  discouraged  by  the  slowness  of  this 
progress ;  but  if  one  looks  at  the  Century  of  Dishonor 
as  it  was  when  Ramona  was  written,  and  then  forward 
to  the  enormous  changes  which  obtain  in  our  Indian 
policy  to-day,  one  is  forced  to  respect  the  influence 
which  a  popular  book  may  have  in  shaping  national 
policies. 

"  It  is  a  marvel  that  a  story  so  full  of  the  dramatic 


THE  STAGING  OF  RAMONA  353 

and  the  human,  and  so  original  in  its  field,  should  not 
have  been  dramatized  long  ago.  But  it  is  by  no  means 
too  late.  The  popular  interest  does  not  flag  —  it  can 
be  increased  by  the  ocular  appeal  of  the  stage.  It 
seems  particularly  fitting  that  this  stage  setting  of 
Ramona  should  be  on  behalf  of  the  Camino  Real  — 
that  historic,  rude  highway  which  linked  Mission  to 
Mission  in  the  land  of  Ramona.  Except  the  human 
tragedy,  nothing  more  appealed  to  Helen  Hunt  than 
this  very  romance  of  the  Missions;  and  the  practical 
sense  which  distinguished  her  would  have  welcomed 
warmly  the  modern  ideal  which  seeks  to  revive  that 
romantic  past  and  to  relate  it  to  terms  of  to-day.  If 
the  restoration  of  the  King's  Highway  can  command 
the  same  devotion  and  the  same  conscience  which 
animated  Helen  Hunt's  great  work,  it  will  be  as  lasting 
a  success,  and  for  the  same  reasons.  For  the  success 
which  does  last,  involves,  and  is  guaranteed  by,  worthy 
work  worthily  performed." 

The  following  is  the  report  of  the  performance  which 
appeared  in  the  L os  A ngeles  Times,  February  28,  1905, 
and  which  is  here  preserved  in  permanent  form  for  its 
historic  interest: 

"It  was  a  great  play,  that  of  '  Ramona/  last  night  at 
the  Mason  Opera  House,  and  it  will  be  greater,  as  soon 
as  the  scenes  are  cut  to  a  reasonable  length,  and  the 
crudities  which  mar  a  first-night  performance  are 
smoothed  out.  That  will  not  be  long,  to  judge  by 
the  talent  of  the  actors  who  gave  this,  the  first  dramatic 
presentation  of  the  West's  most  famous  novel. 


354   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

"  Ramona  herself — Miss  Virginia  Calhoun  —  through 
out  the  most  trying  emotional  strain  of  nearly  five 
hours,  was  exceedingly  clever,  there  certainly  was 
nothing  lacking  in  her  charming  presentation  of  this 
exquisite  character.  In  the  lighter  parts  she  held  a 
fascination  that  was  tempered  with  gentleness  and 
playfulness.  Her  slender  figure,  graceful  and  pliant 
as  a  willow,  swayed  with  every  light  touch  of  feeling, 
and  the  deeper  tragic  climaxes  she  met  in  a  way  to  win 
tears  from  the  eyes  of  many.  She  clothed  with  a  new 
affection  California's  best-loved  heroine. 

"  Hand  and  hand  with  Ramona  was  the  really  fine 
interpretation  of  Alessandro.  Lawrence  Griffith,  who 
played  this  part,  was  the  Indian  to  life  in  appearance; 
he  shares  the  honors  of  the  performance  in  his  por 
trayal  of  this  tragic  and  striking  aborigine;  his  mad 
frenzy  and  portrayal  of  the  death  scene  were  almost 
majestic. 

"  Don  Felipe,  given  by  Mr.  Willard,  did  not  attract 
one  so  much  at  first  —  indeed  all  the  players  im 
proved  in  their  work  as  the  evening  advanced  —  but 
later  one's  heart  went  out  to  the  faithful  lover  when  he 
pleaded  with  Ramona  to  let  him  rescue  her  from 
her  terrible  fate,  beneath  the  gloom  of  Mt.  Tauquitch. 

"Sefiora  Morena  was  a  strong  character  portrayed 
by  Miss  Marie  Baker,  exceedingly  forceful,  but,  alas 
for  the  hitches  of  new  scenery  and  slow  curtain  calls ! 
the  poor  Sefiora,  after  dying  with  tragic  effect,  was 
obliged  to  be  escorted  off  the  stage  afoot  by  good 
Father  Salvierderra. 


THE  STAGING  OF  RAMONA  355 

"  Miss  Baker  was  not  the  only  one  to  suffer  from 
untoward  incidents.  Felipe,  in  a  moment  of  stress 
was  still  hurrying  to  mount  his  steed,  when  the  clatter 
of  the  hoofs  was  sounded  a  little  prematurely.  The 
audience  laughed  —  it  would  have  been  hard  to  help 
it.  Several  fine  bits  were  marred  in  this  way. 

"  The  play  is  long  and  tragic,  and  will  need  severe 
cutting  for  the  benefit  of  the  actors  as  well  as  the 
audience,  for  the  strain  is  too  continuous;  but  when  a 
few  more  performances  have  been  given  it  is  likely  to 
take  its  proper  place  on  the  American  stage. 

"  One  of  the  touches  of  comedy  which  served  to 
lighten  the  stressful  moments  was  the  character-playing 
of  Mrs.  Louis  Belmore,  as  Aunt  Ri.  She  won  repeated 
applause  from  an  appreciative  audience  that  extended 
from  orchestra  chairs  to  the  highest  of  the  gallery  seats. 

"  Another  interlude  of  lightness  which  lent  a  beauti 
ful  touch  of  color  was  the  Spanish  contra  dance.  In 
future  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  El  Sombrero  Blanco,  or 
another  of  its  kind,  will  be  added,  for  it  will  surely 
meet  with  approbation. 

"  The  scenery  dear  to  California  hearts,  the  Indian 
characters,  the  picturesque  garbing,  formed  a  large 
factor  in  the  success  of  the  play,  and  the  music  of  the 
orchestra  helped  the  interpretation  of  the  most  eloquent 
phases. 

"  'The  play  was  great  in  spots,'  said  a  clever  critic, 
and  with  practice  the  spots  will  spread  until  they  cover 
the  whole ;  and  this  seemed  to  be  the  feeling  of  such  as 
were  not  entirely  satisfied  with  the  presentation,  or  who 


356   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

were  the  more  critical  because  they  were  so  interested 
in  the  success  of  this  essentially  Calif ornian  venture. 

"  Too  much  praise  cannot  be  given  to  the  one  who 
planned  the  costumes  for  this  play.  The  little  yellow 
satin  gown  in  which  Ramona  danced  in  front  of  her 
briefly  happy  home  was  a  poem  of  a  gown ;  Alessandro's 
make-up  was  perfect,  and  the  dashing  riding  gear  of 
dear  Don  Felipe  was  great,  the  serape  he  wore  being  a 
treasure  that  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  old. 

"  The  cast  which  supported  Miss  Calhoun  was  very 
good.  The  Indians  managed  to  be  Indians  without 
that  note  of  mock  heroics  which  so  soon  turns  the  sub 
lime  into  the  ridiculous.  Father  Salvierderra  was 
played  by  Richard  Scott,  Juan  Can  by  Luis  Belmore, 
and  the  saucy  maid,  Margarita,  was  given  a  spirited 
and  coquettish  presentation  by  Miss  Monda  Glendower. 
Miss  A.  Hollsworth  made  a  ridiculously  funny  Marda, 
and  the  disgusting  Jim  Farrar  was  well  handled  by 
Raymond  Marion. 

"  Many  of  the  audience  left  before  the  last  act,  as 
it  was  then  12  o'clock  and  it  was  necessary  to  think  of 
getting  home  before  the  cars  stopped;  but  there  were 
enough  left  to  congratulate  the  successful  actors. 

"  The  house  was  unusually  large  even  for  a  first  night. 
The  best  people  were  there.  All  the  boxes  were  full, 
and  every  row  was  filled  from  floor  to  roof.1' 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  RAMONA'S  DAY 

T  N  order  to  know  the  country  of  Ramona's  own  day  we 
-*•  must  approximately  fix  the  time  set  by  the  author  as 
the  epoch  of  her  story.  Ramona  was  written  in  the 
years  1883-1884.  The  story  was  closed.  All  the 
events  had  transpired,  and  the  fictitious  Ramona 
must  have  been,  say,  twenty-five  years  of  age  when  she 
was  married  to  Felipe.  Sons  and  daughters  came  to 
the  happy  couple,  and  this  adds  at  least  another  ten 
years  to  the  time.  This  would  therefore  throw  the 
beginning  of  the  story  back  fully  thirty-five  years, 
and  thirty-five  deducted  from  1883  gives  us  the  early 
fifties.  The  time  of  Ramona,  therefore,  can  safely 
be  said  to  extend  from  about  1840  to  1 8 80. 

In  1 850  and  thereabouts  Southern  California  was  a 
very  different  land  from  what  it  is  to-day.  Los  Angeles, 
then  as  now,  was  its  metropolis  and  chief  city,  but  it 
was  a  one -story  adobe  town,  without  a  single  paved 
street  or  a  cement  sidewalk.  Its  population  did  not 
number  more  than  seventeen  hundred  souls  (sixteen 
hundred  and  ten  according  to  the  census),  and  the 
whole  county  thirty-five  hundred  and  thirty,  and  the 
county  then  meant  almost  the  whole  of  Southern 


358   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

California.  It  had  an  area  greater  than  that  of  the  whole 
of  the  six  New  England  States  combined.  The  only 
other  towns  were  San  Diego,  San  Bernardino,  and 
Santa  Barbara,  with  a  small  settlement  at  each  of 
the  other  Missions.  And  what  towns  they  were! 
Imagination  scarcely  can  depict  them  to  the  youth  of 
to-day.  Sleepy,  dirty,  unkempt,  houses  and  stores 
of  adobe,  streets  of  mud  in  winter,  dust  in  summer, 
no  sidewalks,  no  buggies,  carriages  or  wagons,  little 
or  no  business,  —  they  cannot  be  recognized  in  their 
modern  counterparts.  The  heavy  carreta  squeaked  and 
creaked  as  its  wooden  wheels  ground  on  its  greaseless 
axles;  the  vaquero  rode  his  spirited  horse  or  fretful 
and  nervous  bronco,  and  drove  his  herds  of  cattle  or 
horses  to  the  nearest  corral.  The  only  stores  were 
adobe  and  mainly  one  story  high.  The  roofs  were 
covered  with  brea, — the  outcroppings  or  flowings  of 
the  natural  oil  deposits,  which  later  have  made  Los 
Angeles  and  California  so  famous  and  in  sum 
mer  this  tar  or  pitch-like  substance  would  melt  and 
slowly  flow  and  drop  in  molasses  like  tears  upon 
the  heads  of  those  foolish  and  ignorant  enough  to  loiter 
beneath.  But  there  was  little  or  nothing  in  any  of  the 
store  windows  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  most  cu 
rious  or  childlike.  The  one  window  of  each  tienda  or 
store  was  generally  barred  with  iron,  and  the  chief 
decorations,  inside  and  out,  were  strings  of  red  chiles 
and  jerked  beef.  The  tiendero  generally  sat  in  the 
doorway,  smoking  the  inevitable  cigarrito,  protecting 
his  wares  and  looking  for  customers. 


The  Franciscan  monastery  at  Santa  Barbara,  the  toilers  of  the  old  Mission 
at  the  right  Page  291 


The  Franciscan  priests,  clerics,  and  lay  brothers,  at  Santa  Barbara  , 

Photo  by  George  Wharton  James  Page  291 


-,,.;-:    : 


par,. 


Franciscan  making  baskets  at  Santa  Barbara  Mission 
Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

Page  299 


An  old  California  carreta  —  the  carriage  of  Ramonas  day 

Page  358 


RAMONA'S    COUNTRY   IN   HER    DAY  359 

The  old  plaza  was  there,  as  now,  and  the  Mission 
Chapel,  while  the  main  part  of  the  town  was  to  the 
north  —  towards  Pasadena  and  the  mountains.  The 
southward  and  westward  extensions  and  expansions 
did  not  begin  until  later.  Los  Angeles  Street  was  the 
main  business  thoroughfare,  and  leading  from  its  end, 
where  Aliso  Street  begins,  to  the  plaza,  was  the  Calle 
de  Los  Negros,  soon  to  be  Americanized  into  Nigger 
Alley.  Professor  J.  M.  Guinn  says  of  this  street,  "  In 
length  it  did  not  exceed  five  hundred  feet,  yet  within 
its  limited  extent  it  enclosed  more  wickedness  and 
crime  than  any  similar  area  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Gambling  dens,  saloons,  dance-houses,  and  disrepu 
table  dives  lined  either  side.  From  morning  to  night, 
and  from  night  to  morning,  a  motley  throng  of  Ameri 
cans,  Mexicans,  Indians  and  foreigners  of  nearly  every 
nation  and  tongue  crowded  and  jostled  one  another 
in  its  dens  and  dives.  They  gambled,  they  drank, 
they  quarreled,  they  fought,  and  some  of  them  died  — 
not  for  their  country  —  although  the  country  was 
benefited  by  their  death.  In  the  early  fifties  there 
were  more  desperadoes,  outlaws  and  ctft-throats  in 
Los  Angeles  than  in  any  other  city  on  the  coast.  In 
the  year  1 853  the  violent  deaths  from  fights  and  assassi 
nations  averaged  over  one  a  day.  The  Calle  de  los 
Negros  was  the  central  point  towards  which  the  law 
lessness  of  the  city  converged.  It  was,  in  its  prime, 
the  wickedest  street  on  earth.  With  the  decadence 
of  gold-mining  the  character  of  the  street  changed,  but 
its  morals  were  not  improved.  It  ceased  to  be  the 


360   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

rendezvous  of  the  gambler  and  the  desperado,  and 
became  the  center  of  the  Chinese  quarter  of  the  city. 
Even  in  its  decadence  its  murderous  character  clung 
to  it.  On  this  street,  in  1871,  took  place  that  terrible 
tragedy  known  as  the  Chinese  Massacre,  when  eighteen 
Chinamen  and  one  white  man  were  murdered.  The 
extension  of  Los  Angeles  Street  obliterated  it  from 
the  plan  of  the  city." 

In  1860  the  population  of  Los  Angeles  was  four 
thousand  three  hundred  and  ninety-nine,  and  that  of 
the  county  eleven  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty- 
three.  The  disappointed  gold-seekers  were  now  on  the 
lookout  for  homes  and  the  southern  part  of  the  state 
received  its  share  of  them. 

In  1870  the  increase  recorded  was  but  small,  the 
census  giving  five  thousand  six  hundred  and  fourteen 
for  the  city,  and  fifteen  thousand  three  hundred  and 
nine  for  the  county. 

The  Union  and  Central  Pacific  Railways  had  joined 
rails  and  regular  trains  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific 
were  running,  but  there  was  no  rail  communication 
between  San- Francisco  and  the  "  cow  counties,"  as  the 
people  of  the  city  by  the  Golden  Gate  derisively  desig 
nated  the  region  to  the  South.  Steamers  brought 
passengers  and  freight  regularly  between  San  Fran 
cisco  and  San  Pedro,  the  port  for  Los  Angeles, 
but  mail  and  many  passengers  came  overland  by 
stage. 

But  things  were  beginning  to  wake  up.  In  1876 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railway  came,  and  the  Santa  Fe 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY      361 

in  1885  completed  its  connections.    From  that  time 
on,  growth  has  been  phenomenal. 

And  what  of  the  surrounding  country,  the  real  land 
as  differentiated  from  the  city?  What  kind  of  a  place 
was  it  that  Mrs.  Jackson  made  the  home  of  the  beauti 
ful  fiction  of  her  brain?  She  herself  has  given,  with 
consummate  art  and  fidelity,  a  series  of  pictures  of  it. 
The  field  of  mustard,  through  which  Father  Salvierderra 
walked,  and  wherein  he  met  Ramona.  A  land  of  sheep 
and  shepherds  and  sheep-shearings,  where  picturesque 
Indians  did  the  shearing  and  Mexican  and  Spanish 
rancheros  and  dons  weighed  and  packed  the  fleeces. 
A  land  where  adobe  ranch-houses  dotted  the  land 
scape  at  far  distant  intervals, —  the  primitive  palaces 
where  dwelt  the  princes  and  princesses  that  ruled, 
with  easy  hand,  domains  larger  than  many  European 
principalities.  A  land  where,  earlier  still,  the  Mission 
Fathers  had  come  from  Spain  and  Mexico  with  zeal  and 
love,  devotion  and  compassion  moving  in  their  souls 
to  work  for  the  salvation  of  the  heathen  natives;  and 
where,  in  the  furtherance  of  their  work,  they  had  erected 
Mission  buildings, —  grand,  stately,  dignified,  simple 
structures,  that  were  to  come  down  to  our  day  as  teach 
ers  to  our  generation  of  lessons  of  simplicity,  dignity 
and  power;  Mission  buildings  that  bore  stamped  upon 
them  not  only  the  marvellous  personality  of  their 
builders,  but  the  varied  history  —  triumphant,  dis 
tressed,  turbulent,  riotous,  calm,  monotonous,  angelic, 
demoniac, —  through  which  they  have  passed.  How 
the  old  Missions  colored  the  landscape,  and  how  they 


362   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

quickened  the  imagination  of  such  women  as  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson.  She  saw  in  each  building  the  struggles 
of  its  priestly  architect  and  builder,  coping  with  inad- 
quate  help,  insufficient  technical  knowledge  and  lack 
of  artistic  skill.  Step  by  step  she  followed  its  history; 
the  triumph  felt  by  the  good  padres  at  its  completion; 
the  joy  experienced  as  savages  were  brought  in  and 
were  baptized,  thus  becoming  neophytes  and  heirs  of 
salvation;  the  weariness  of  the  daily  struggles  to  edu 
cate  these  neophytes  from  ignorant  savages  into  civi 
lized  Christians ;  the  hopelessness  when  what  seemed  to 
the  priests  fearful  moral  lapses  were  revealed;  the 
encouragement  when  one  or  more  of  the  dusky  wards 
showed  growing  appreciation  of  the  truths  of  the 
Catholic  teaching;  the  sadness  that  came  with  covert 
and  sullen  rebellion;  the  indignation  and  militant 
ardor  that  were  aroused  at  open  rebellion  and  defiant 
disregard  of  authority,  reaching  so  far,  sometimes,  as 
deadly  attack  upon  the  Missions,  fire,  slaughter, 
plunder  and  rapine;  the  awful  loneliness  that  came 
over  some  of  the  padres,  when  as  far  as  their  own  people 
were  concerned,  they  were  left  solitary  and  alone  to  do 
their  heroic  and  never-completed  work.  All  these 
things,  and  a  thousand  more,  she  saw  and  felt,  and  then, 
alas !  She  sat  and  wept  as  those  dreadful  days  of  secu 
larization  were  recalled.  Secularization  ?  No !  it  should 
be  written  open  spoliation  and  plunder,  for  these  Mis 
sions,  the  gardens,  vineyards,  flocks,  herds,  and  In 
dians  were  alike  made  the  object  of  the  conscienceless 
pillagings  of  vulture  politicians,  whose  only  thought 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY      363 

was  to  cram  their  own  maws  with  the  fatness  they  so 
envied  and  lusted  after.  Her  vision  included  the 
dispersion  of  flocks,  herds,  Indians  and  faithful  priests, 
and  the  giving  over  to  the  bats  and  night  birds  of  the 
sacred  structures,  built  with  so  much  labor  and  con 
secrated  with  so  much  love  and  devotion.  She 
saw  the  Catalan  priests  come  in  and  take  the  places 
of  the  devout  Franciscans,  and  with  deep  grief  and 
strong  indignation,  she  actually  witnessed  the  pulling 
down  of  arches  and  walls,  the  bricks  of  which  were 
sold  for  a  few  filthy  dollars  to  go  into  their  greedy 
hands. 

Here  and  there  she  saw,  —  and  her  heart  bounded 
at  the  sight,  —  a  padre  of  the  old  school,  still  loving  his 
people  and  devoting  his  whole  life  to  their  welfare. 
She  saw  the  scattered  Indians,  like  sheep  without  a 
shepherd,  worried  and  pillaged  by  wolfish  Americans, 
driven  from  house  and  home,  abused,  lied  to,  vitiated, 
corrupted  and  cursed  by  the  white  race.  She  saw  the 
dishonesty  and  trickery  of  this  same  race  in  dealing 
with  the  lordly  old  Spanish  dons,  who,  secure  in  each 
other's  honor,  had  never  cared  about  making  micro 
scopic  division  lines  between  their  vast  estates,  or 
looking  to  the  strict  letter  of  their  grants  and  titles. 
She  felt  the  necessary  antagonism  between  the  two 
types  of  people,  especially  when  the  animosity  was 
heightened  by  sectarian  differences  and  dissensions. 

Yet,  in  soothing  contrast,  she  felt  the  power  of  this 
land  of  sunshine,  birds,  bees,  buds  and  blossoms.  She 
saw  the  brilliancy  of  its  sunrises  and  sunsets,  the  glories 


364   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  its  mountains,  the  fertile  beauty  of  its  valleys,  the 
grandeur  of  its  forests,  the  deliciousness  of  its  moun 
tain  streams,  the  sublimity  of  its  ocean.  Her  eyes 
were  thrilled  with  the  myriads  of  brilliant-hued  flowers 
that  strewed  the  earth  as  a  carpet  more  gorgeous  than 
any  cashmere  shawl  or  Turkish  rug  woven  in  adepts' 
loom;  and  her  ears  responded  with  equal  delight  to  the 
trillings  and  singings  of  a  thousand  birds  of  varied  song 
and  exquisite  plumage. 

These  were  the  things,  and  many  more,  that  she 
wove  into  the  fabric  of  her  story,  Ramona,  and  that 
have  led  thousands  of  far  away  strangers  to  sit  with 
closed  eyes  dreaming  of  this  fair  land  of  Southern 
California,  their  hearts  filled  with  longing  to  visit  and 
know  in  reality  that  which  her  pen  so  lovingly  described. 
And,  in  the  main,  her  pictures  are  truthfully  real. 
Love  and  sympathy  did  not  blind  her;  they  rather 
quickened  her  observing  faculties,  and  guided  her 
pen. 

Marvellous  are  the  changes  that  have  taken  place 
in  this  land  since  the  fictitious  Ramona  is  supposed  to 
have  "  lived,  and  moved  and  had  her  being."  Pos 
sibly  in  no  section  in  the  civilized  world  has  material 
progress  been  so  marked.  There  have  been  isolated 
towns,  perhaps,  but  not  whole  sections  that  have 
bounded  forward  with  such  gigantic  leaps. 

The  reasons  for  this  are  many  and  varied,  but  chief 
among  them  all  is  the  fact  of  climate  and  its  conse 
quences.  "  The  glorious  climate  of  Calif orny  "  has 
always  been  a  subject  of  enthusiastic  and  exuberant 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY      365 

praise  ever  since  the  Argonauts  wrote  home  and  ex 
patiated  upon  its  charms.  And  it  is  wonderful,  and 
the  effects  it  produces  are  enchanting  and  alluring. 
In  spite  of  occasional  disagreeable  features  its  all-trie- 
year-round  qualities  of  comfort  cannot  be  exaggerated. 
The  worst  that  can  be  said  of  it  is  that  the  sunshine 
and  brightness  of  it  grow  somewhat  monotonous  to 
some  people.  Winter  and  summer  alike  it  is  delightful 
and  delicious.  Thousands  of  people,  invalid  and 
well,  sleep  out-of-doors  practically  throughout  the 
year.  During  the  winter  the  cold  is  never  severe  and 
only  occasionally  are  there  disagreeable  "  hot  spells  " 
in  summer. 

This  equability  of  climate  not  only  has  its  immediate 
personal  effect,  but  it  affects  the  whole  of  one's  en 
vironment.  It  makes  the  country  a  land  of  perpetual 
though  changeful  beauty.  There  is  practically  no 
snow,  few  frosts,  and  therefore  that  phase  of  life  is  not 
seen  unless  one  climbs  the  mountains.  Yet,  as  I 
have  shown  in  the  chapter  on  this  climatic  wonderland, 
it  is  possible,  by  means  of  the  mountain  railway,  to 
ascend  to  the  snowy  heights  and  there  revel  in  winter 
sports,  while  perpetual  spring  and  summer  lie  at  one's 
feet,  not  more  than  an  hour  away. 

In  days  of  Ramona's  childhood  there  was  not  a 
single  mile  of  railway  in  the  Golden  State.  The  only 
means  of  conveyance  were  horseback, —  women  riding 
as  well  as  men,  though  the  gallants  often  placed  their 
lady-loves  on  the  saddle,  while  they  rode  on  the  anguera 
(or  leathern  ornaments)  behind, —  and  the  carreta,  a 


366   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

heavy,  lumbering,  clumsy,  noisy,  jolting,  springless 
wagon  of  primitive  invention,  simple  construction,  and 
uncomfortable  to  use.  The  wheels  were  solid  sections 
of  trees  sawed  from  a  trunk,  about  four  feet  in  diam 
eter,  and  about  a  foot  thick,  with  a  hole  through  the 
center  for  an  axle.  The  body  of  the  vehicle  was  set 
upon  the  axles,  without  springs;  and  sticks  were 
stuck  into  the  edge  of  the  body,  standing  perpendicu 
larly,  over  which  hides  were  stretched,  thus  enclosing 
the  front  end  and  sides.  Nothing  more  simple  or 
primitive  could  be  imagined,  and  in  Ramona's  day  no 
other  conveyance  was  used  for  any  purpose.  Not  only 
were  heavy  goods  transported  in  these  carretas,  but 
they  were  used  as  family  carriages.  They  were  drawn 
by  oxen  —  never  by  horses, —  the  traces  being  of  raw 
hide  or  chain  firmly  affixed  to  the  yoke,  which  was  an 
almost  straight  piece  of  heavy  wood,  fitted  to  the  top 
of  the  neck  just  back  of  the  horns,  and  fastened  with 
a  piece  of  soft  hide.  When  thus  used,  the  rawhide 
sides  were  lined  with  calico  or  sheeting,  or  even  with 
silk;  mattresses  were  placed  on  the  wagon  bed,  and  a 
cover,  or  awning,  to  keep  off  the  sun  or  rain  wras 
stretched  from  the  tops  of  the  side  sticks.  The  men 
rode  horseback  in  front,  or  in  the  rear,  as  sweet  will 
dictated,  and  when  the  journey  was  a  long  one,  went 
ahead  and  found  good  camping  locations,  generally 
near  a  spring  or  a  running  stream.  Cooking  utensils 
were  taken  along,  and  the  journey,  though  slow,  tedi 
ous  and  otherwise  monotonous,  was  made  cheery  with 
song  and  the  merry  tinkle  of  the  guitar.  At  night, 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY     367 

around  the  campfire,  stories  were  rehearsed,  and  the 
men,  many  of  whom  could  play  the  violin  with  con 
siderable  skill,  joined  their  music  with  that  of  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  women. 

For  the  first  few  years  of  Ramona's  existence,  say 
until  1 855, gold  seekers  passed  over  the  land  in  great 
numbers,  finding  few  but  Mexicans,  Spaniards  and 
Indians.  The  chief  industries  were  cattle  and  horse 
raising,  save  at  the  coast  towns  where  some  shipping 
was  done.  The  men  were  more  at  home  on  horse 
back  than  on  foot,  and  the  well-to-do  class  was  a  happy, 
pleasure-loving  people,  believing  in  themselves,  in 
God,  the  simple  and  easy  life,  and  doing  nothing  to-day 
that  could  be  put  off  until  manana. 

The  heroic  periods  of  California  are  the  Mission  Days, 
the  Pioneer  Days  or  the  Days  of  Gold,  the  Cattle 
Days.  American  citizens  came  to  join  in  cattle  and 
horse  raising,  and  not  until  the  great  drought  of  1864 
did  a  change  begin.  This  year  is  one  long  to  be  remem 
bered.  While  the  Spanish  and  Mexican  population 
was  kind-hearted,  brave  and  hospitable,  they  were  the 
most  improvident  and  careless  people  on  earth.  Feb 
ruary  and  March  of  1 864  found  them  without  hay  in 
their  barns,  and  all  their  fields  bare  enough  for  a 
threshing  floor,  as  there  were  no  rains  to  make  the  grass 
grow.  "  The  poor  cattle,  weak  and  weary,  would  go 
down  into  a  creek-bed  for  a  drink,  and  perish  miserably 
for  want  of  strength  to  climb  out  again.  On  all  sides 
was  heard  the  hoarse  croak  of  the  greedy  buzzard,  as, 
on  strong  but  tired  pinions,  he  wheeled  about  in  a 


368   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

vista  of  cloudless  blue  and  waited  for  the  expiring  groan 
of  some  helpless  beast." 

The  few  Americans  in  the  country  also  suffered  se 
verely.  As  D.  B.  Wilson  wrote:  "  The  only  wealth  of 
this  country  up  to  date  is  in  cattle  and  horses,  and  the 
more  of  these  you  have  the  worse  you  are  off.  I  tell 
you  these  are  the  kind  of  times  that  try  men's 
souls." 

Cattle  were  offered  by  advertisement  in  the  local 
paper  at  seven  dollars  per  head,  half-breeds  for  ten 
dollars  and  guaranteed  American  stock  for  fifteen 
dollars,  and  they  could  be  bought  for  even  half  these 
prices.  One  man  made  considerable  money  by  char 
tering  a  vessel,  buying  up  about  a  thousand  cattle  and 
taking  them  north  to  the  abundant  pastures  of  Oregon, 
from  whence,  after  they  were  fatted  up,  he  transported 
them  to  the  California  mines  and  to  San  Francisco  and 
sold  them  as  high  as  sixty-five  dollars  a  head. 

It  was  during  this  season  that  James  Lick,  the  eccen 
tric  millionaire  of  San  Francisco,  who  had  bought  Santa 
Catalina  Island,  covered  its  hills  with  sheep  and  goats, 
which  he  purchased  at  San  Pedro  for  fifty  cents  a  head. 
.  He  arranged  to  have  them  shipped  as  soon  as  they  were 
fat, —  for  the  moisture  from  the  sea  made  the  grass 
grow  on  the  island, —  and  it  is  said  he  brought  one 
thousand  head  or  more  into  San  Francisco  every  ten 
days  for  many  months,  thus  clearing  many  thousands 
of  dollars  by  the  transaction. 

Many  a  stock  man,  however,  not  having  provided 
for  the  exigency  of  the  drought,  and  not  being  able  to 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY     369 

charter  a  steamer  to  take  his  animals  to  better  pastur 
age,  lost  about  all  he  owned,  and  for  many  years  after 
the  evil  effects  of  this  dry  season  were  felt  all  through 
out  Ramona's  country. 

While  the  immediate  effect  of  these  droughts  was 
unmitigated  evil,  the  ultimate  effects  are  seen  in  the 
wonderful  change  that  has  come  over  the  land.  The 
lack  of  constantly  flowing  water  compelled  a  conserva 
tion  and  storage  of  what  there  was  during  seasons  of 
abundancy,  and  also  the  development  of  the  springs, 
etc.  Without  water  a  paradise  would  soon  become 
a  desert,  and  no  population  could  exist.  Yet  through 
out  Ramona's  country  the  population  has  been  in 
creasing  with  gigantic  strides,  and  the  development  of 
the  water  supply  has  been  made  to  more  than  keep  pace 
with  the  increase.  This  in  itself  reveals  interesting  facts 
about  Ramona's  country.  \Vhere  and  how  is  the  water 
hidden  that  it  may  be  "  developed  "?  The  term  is 
unmeaning  to  people  who  live  in  lands  abounding  in 
springs  and  running  streams.  There  are  few  running 
streams  that  are  constant  in  the  whole  of  Southern 
California.  Nearly  all  of  the  so-called  rivers  have  their 
dry  season.  And  this,  unfortunately,  is  at  the  very 
period  when  an  abundance  of  water  is  needed  to  meet 
the  dry  season  of  summer,  when  not  a  drop  of  rain 
falls  for  months.  The  Mohave  River,  which  has  its 
rise  in  the  winter  snow-fields  of  the  Sierra  Madre,  flows 
eastward  a  few  miles,  and  is  then  lost  in  the  vampire 
sands  of  the  desert.  The  San  Diego  River,  further  to 
the  south,  flows  westward  part  of  the  year,  and  the 


370   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

remainder  of  the  months  shows  a  dry  arroyo.  The 
padres.'dt  the  old  Mission  a  century  and  a  quarter  ago 
dammed  the  stream  and  then  found  that,  just  when  they 
needed  water,  it  did  not  flow.  At  times  the  San  Gabriel 
River  is  a  raging  torrent,  dashing  madly  down  from 
the  snowy  slopes  of  Mount  San  Antonio  and  sweeping 
everything  before  it.  A  thousand  cities  could  be  built 
of  boulders  alone,  rolled  over  and  washed  down, —  mil 
lions  of  them  buried  in  the  sand  and  gravel  of  countless 
years  of  torrential  flood,  by  this  impetuous  stream. 
Yet  in  summer  time  a  child  often  could  divert  the 
small  flow  that  trickles  its  listless  way  down  to  the  sea. 
And  so  with  the  Los  Angeles  River,  the  Santa  Clara, 
the  San  Buenaventura,  the  Santa  Maria  and  all  the 
other  streams,  whether  east  or  west  of  the  moun 
tains,  that  exist  in  Ramona's  country.  On  the  moun 
tain  heights  and  down  the  rocky  canyons  they  are  as 
beautiful,  clear,  sparkling,  full  and  alive  as  mountain 
brooks  elsewhere,  but,  when  they  reach  the  plains,  they 
speedily  disappear,  to  the  manifest  distress  of  those 
who  rely  upon  them  for  their  daily  water  supply. 

What  then  could  be  done?  A  careful  study  of  the 
underground  conditions  revealed  several  interesting 
facts.  In  some  cases  it  was  found  that  the  whole 
stream  simply  sank.  The  dry  wash,  or  arroyo,  was  a 
deception.  The  river  still  flowed,  but  it  was  under 
neath.  So,  in  several  instances,  the  strange  thing 
occurred  of  men  digging  down  to  the  underground 
streams,  there  building  concrete  and  other  dams  to 
force  the  flow  of  water  back  to  the  surface,  where,  in 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY      371 

cement  ditches,  it  was  conveyed  to  the  thirsty  fields 
for  irrigation,  or  to  reservoirs  specially  constructed 
for  its  conservation. 

In  scores  of  instances  reservoirs  of  large  extent 
were  built,  some  of  them  being  remarkable  pieces  of 
engineering,  equal  in  extent  and  massiveness  to  any 
thing  yet  attempted  in  this  line  by  man.  The  Sweet- 
water  Dam,  the  Hemet  Dam,  the  Bear  Valley  Dam  and 
others  are  well-known  examples  of  international  fame. 

To  some  of  the  cities  the  underground  flows  of 
water  were  essential  to  life. 

Take  Los  Angeles  and  Pasadena  as  examples.  The 
former  is  now  a  city  of  over  three  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants.  In  Ramona's  day  it  had  from  two  to  five 
thousand.  Then  the  flow  from  the  Los  Angeles  River 
was  sufficiently  reliable  for  all  the  needs  of  the  small 
pueblo,  and  it  was  conveyed  in  open  ditches,  or  zanjas, 
to  the  distributing  reservoir  or  to  the  fields  and  vine 
yards  for  irrigation.  A  pueblo  officer  named  the  Zanjero 
—  (pronounced  than-kay'-ro)  —  was  appointed  to  have 
charge  of  distributing  the  water  equitably.  As  the 
pueblo  merged  into  the  American  town,  and  rapidly 
grew  in  population,  doubling  itself  several  successive 
times  in  seven  years,  until  now  it  is  rapidly  nearing 
the  population  mark  of  California's  metropolis,  it  was 
found  necessary  to  increase  the  water  supply.  This 
has  been  done  by  securing  the  underflow  of  the  Los 
Angeles  River,  and,  by  means  of  tunnels  and  similar 
devices,  bringing  it  to  the  surface  and  thus  to  the 
distributing  reservoirs. 


372   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Now  (1908)  Los  Angeles  is  arranging  to  bring  water 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Sierras,  from  Owen's  River, 
a  distance  of  over  two  hundred  miles.  It  has  purchased 
water-bearing  lands  or  water-shed  to  the  extent  of 
seventy-six  thousand  five  hundred  and  eighty-one 
acres,  or,  in  round  numbers,  one  hundred  and  twenty 
square  miles.  Its  own  city  territory  is  one  half  of 
this,  viz.,  sixty-one  and  four  tenths  square  miles.  The 
water  rights  purchased  by  the  city  are  expected  to 
yield  not  less  than  from  fifteen  thousand  to  twenty 
thousand  inches,  mean  annual  flow,  and  on  June  12 
the  city  voted  to  tax  itself  twrenty-three  million  dollars 
for  the  purpose  of  building  aqueducts  to  bring  this 
needful  water  supply  to  its  gates. 

During  the  summer  months  Pasadena  relies  almost 
entirely  for  its  water  supply  upon  subterranean 
sources.  Near  the  foot-hills,  in  the  direction  of  La 
Canyada,  above  Pasadena,  a  stranger,  wandering  over 
what  seems  to  him  to  be  waste  and  barren  land, will 
here  and  there  see  walls  that  appear  to  be  surrounding 
nothing.  They  are  protecting  walls  for  the  air  shafts 
that  lead  down  to  the  water  tunnels,  which  have  been 
driven  in  every  direction  to  tap  underground  water 
supplies  and  bring  them  to  the  reservoirs,  from  whence 
they  are  pumped  to  the  distributing  reservoirs. 

A  dam,  which  is  more  important  in  its  subterranean 
capacity  than  above  ground,  is  built  across  the  Arroyo 
Seco,  in  a  narrow  part  known  as  Devil's  Gate,  and  this 
arrests  considerable  flow  of  hidden  water.  Indeed  few 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Pasadena  are  aware  of  the  large 


RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  IN  HER  DAY      373 

amount  of  tunneling,  damming  and  piping  that  has 
been  done  to  secure  for  them  the  necessary  water  for 
domestic,  civic  and  irrigation  purposes. 

Within  the  last  year  or  two  important  lawsuits  have 
been  settled  in  the  courts  between  the  settlers  in  the 
San  Fernando  Valley,  where  the  Los  Angeles  River 
flows,  and  the  city  of  Los  Angeles.  In  order  to  secure 
water  for  irrigation  and  domestic  use  on  their  ranches, 
the  settlers  were  compelled  to  bore  for  subterranean 
water.  This  was  found,  by  the  city  engineer,  to  tap 
and  consequently  reduce  the  city's  supply,  and  in 
self  defense  the  city  brought  suit  against  the  settlers  to 
compel  them  to  desist.  It  seemed  to  be  a  hard  case  to 
settle,  for  water  was  as  essential  to  the  life  of  the  ranches 
as  to  the  city  dweller.  Yet  it  was  clearly  shown  that 
the  city  had  the  prior  right  by  grant,  and  subsequent 
legal  filing,  upon  all  the  flow  of  the  Los  Angeles  River, 
and  that  was  interpreted  to  include  the  underground 
as  well  as  the  above-ground  flow. 

The  decline  in  the  gold  fields,  followed  by  the  drought 
and  consequent  uncertainty  of  the  cattle  industry,  led 
to  the  establishment  of  a  new  era  for  California.  The 
Mission  Days,  the  Gold  Days,  the  Cattle  Days  gave 
way  to  the  Fruit  Days  and  to-day  Southern  California 
is  known  the  world  over  for  its  marvellous  growths  of 
citrus  and  deciduous  fruits. 

Naturally  this  is  but  the  merest  suggestion  of  a  sketch, 
but  in  it  I  have  tried  to  show  one  or  two  important 
and  often  overlooked  features. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
RAMONA'S  COUNTRY  TO-DAY 

TT  is  not  possible  to  do  more  than  suggest  the  merest 
-*-  outlines  of  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  in 
Ramonaland  since  Ramona's  day.  The  gringo  has 
poured,  literally  poured,  into  the  country,  until  the 
quiet,  sleepy,  old  adobe  pueblos  have  become  great  cities, 
cities  that  are  famous  not  only  in  the  United  States, — 
but  throughout  the  whole  civilized  world.  Los  Angeles, 
San  Diego,  Santa  Barbara,  Riverside,  Redlands,  Pasa 
dena,  San  Pedro,  Long  Beach,  and  many  others  are 
known  wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken.  Why? 
Again  the  answer  must  be  —  the  marvellous  climate. 
There  have  been  push,  energy,  brains  and  capital  intro 
duced,  but  without  the  climate  and  the  marvellous 
environment  Southern  California  affords  to  man  it 
would  still  be  a  "  Cow  Country,"  waiting  for  an  earth 
quake  to  awaken  it  from  its  lazy  drowsiness. 

The  changes  of  the  thirty  years  from  1850  to  1 880 
were  small  compared  with  the  phenomenal  develop 
ment  of  the  nearly  thirty  years  since.  In  1 880  the 
population  of  Los  Angeles  had  increased  to  about 
eleven  thousand;  in  1908  it  is  three  hundred  thousand, 
and  still  growing  with  unequaled  rapidity.  And  the 


RAMONA'S    COUNTRY   TO-DAY        375 

surrounding  country  is  leaping  forward  in  a  somewhat 
similar  ratio.  In  nothing  is  this  more  apparent  than  in 
the  suburban  electric  lines  radiating  from  Los  Angeles, 
and  in  the  growth  of  towns  along  the  beach.  A  map 
of  thirty  years  ago  is  useless.  A  guide-book  of  ten 
years  ago  is  useless.  In  Ramona's  day  there  was  not 
an  inch  of  electric  line  in  the  country,  for  it  was  un 
known.  To-day  over  one  thousand  miles  of  electric 
railway  are  operated  in  or  about  Los  Angeles;  and  in 
equipment  everything  is  most  modern.  Monster  cars, 
almost  as  large  as  an  ordinary  Pullman,  on  their  own 
right  of  way,  dash  along  at  sixty  miles  an  hour  to 
towns  that  lie  ten,  twenty,  thirty  or  more  miles  away, 
and  thus  the  whole  country  is  brought  within  an  hour 
or  so  of  its  metropolis.  On  the  beach,  instead  of  the 
sleepy  ports  of  San  Diego,  San  Juan  Capistrano,  San 
Pedro  and  Santa  Barbara,  a  motley  population  of 
pleasure-seekers  may  be  found  all  the  way  from  San 
Diego  to  Santa  Barbara,  and  over  twenty  new,  pros 
perous  and  populous  beach  towns  have  sprung  into 
vigorous  existence. 

In  Los  Angeles  alone  over  a  million  dollars  a  month 
are  being  expended  in  the  erection  of  new  buildings; 
the  population  is  of  the  best  eastern  as  well  as  the  best 
western,  and  the  energy  and  business  acumen  of  the 
keen  Yankee,  the  smart  Middle  Westerner  and  the 
sharp  Northerner  unite  and  commingle,  aroused  into 
new  and  powerful  manifestations  by  the  stimulating 
climatic  conditions  of  this  land  of  the  Sun  Down  Sea. 
For,  while  it  is  essentially  a  land  of  poetry,  it  is  a 


376   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

mistake  to  designate  it  —  as  some  poets  have  done  —  a 
Land  of  the  Sunny  Afternoon,  suggesting  hammocks 
and  sleepiness  and  the  drowsy  humming  of  bees. 
Though  occasionally  it  gets  hot,  there  is  a  healthful, 
vigorous,  stirring  quality  in  the  atmosphere  that  pro 
vokes  to  labor,  and  in  no  country  on  earth  is  the  best 
of  men  and  women  —  physically,  mentally  and  spirit 
ually, —  so  easily  called  forth  as  in  Ramonaland. 

Business!  The  stores  of  Los  Angeles  are  equal  in 
every  respect  to  those  of  New  York,  Boston,  Phila 
delphia  and  Chicago;  the  hotels  are  world  renowned, — 
the  Raymond,  Wentworth,  Green,  Maryland,  Pinto- 
resca  at  Pasadena,  Alexandria,  Van  Nuys,  Angelus, 
Lankershim,  Hayward  in  Los  Angeles,  Virginia  at  Long 
Beach,  Glen  wood  at  Riverside,  Potter  and  Arlington 
at  Santa  Barbara,  Casa  Loma  at  Redlands,  Coronado 
at  Coronado  Beach,  and  the  new  Grant  at  San  Diego 
are  all  well  and  favorably  known  to  traveled  and  to 
refined. cosmopolites.  Los  Angeles  is  rapidly  becoming 
one  of  the  greatest  centers  of  electric  power  in  the 
world.  There  are  two  reasons  for  this;  its  close  prox 
imity  to  the  water  power  of  the  mountains,  and 
crude  oil,  the  cheapest  and  easiest  handled  fuel  known, 
which  flows  freely  within  its  borders  and  boundaries. 
Even  the  new  water  supply  of  the  city  will  contribute 
marvellously  to  its  power,  as  relays  of  electric  generat 
ing  stations  are  to  be  built  along  the  conduit,  utilizing 
every  ounce  of  energy  caused  by  the  downward  flow 
of  the  water  from  the  Sierras.  Here,  then,  industrial 
development  and  transportation  expansion  find  their 


A  Southern  California  Orange  Grove 

Page  308 


A  modern  hotel  in 


in  Mission  style,  Riverside,  California^  H  T1  ||MM 
fc"  Page.1377 


RAMONA'S    COUNTRY    TO-DAY        377 

natural  home  as  fast  as  the  rapid  inpouring  of  its  new 
population  demands.  And  this  is  not  confined  merely 
to  Los  Angeles.  Electric  power  can  be  tapped  any 
where  its  wires  go.  The  Edison  system  has  over  a 
thousand  miles  of  wires  carrying  and  distributing  its 
power  through  Ramonaland,  and  this  is  but  the  begin 
ning.  The  development  of  water,  before  referred  to, 
is  changing  the-  whole  face  of  the  country  into  a  vast 
and  beautiful  expanse  of  cultivated  orchards  and  gar 
dens  where  grow  a  thousand  fruits  and  flowers.  Thirty 
thousand  car-loads  of  oranges,  and  more,  each  year  — 
think  of  it!  twenty  cars  to  a  train,  one  thousand  five 
hundred  train-loads  of  oranges  —  and  similar  propor 
tions  of  lemons,  olives,  walnuts,  and  dried  fruits,  such 
as  raisins,  apricots,  peaches,  are  sent  east,  north  and 
south  after  each  harvest.  Even  four  thousand  car 
loads  of  celery  grew  and  were  shipped  from  Ramona 
land  in  1907,  and  within  one  little  valley  grows  all  the 
mustard  used  in  the  United  States.  Ten  million  dol 
lars'  worth  of  sugar  was  made  last  year  from  its  beets 
in  the  eight  beet-sugar  factories  that  are  all  in  regular 
and  successful  operation;  and  its  wild  flowers  contri 
bute  thousandsxof  tons  of  honey  annually  to  the  dietetic 
sweetness  of  the  world.  Even  the  deserts  —  tht 
Mohave  and  Colorado  —  under  the  stimulating  am 
vivifying  influences  of  energy  and  water,  are  beginning 
to  yield  richly,  almonds,  sweet  potatoes,  Bermuda 
onions,  melons,  canteloupes,  and  small  fruits  pro 
ducing  prodigiously,  while  Burbank's  thornless  cactus 
and  alfalfa  (the  latter  giving  six  to  eight  large  crops 


378   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

a  year)  are  feeding  the  stock  needed  for  a  population  of 
millions.  Even  the  date  of  the  Orient  is  soon  to  be 
grown  in  the  borders  of  Ramonaland  in  commercial 
quantities,  as  it  has  been  found  that  on  the  Colorado 
Desert  the  conditions  are  most  favorable  for  its  perfect 
development. 

Four  overland  systems  of  railways  converge  towards 
this  land  to  bring  in  people  and  their  material  needs, 
and  to  transport  the  products  of  its  fields  and  mines. 
For  not  only  are  its  fields  productive;  even  the  earth 
yields  her  richest  here.  Gold,  silver  and  other  precious 
minerals  are  found  in  abundance,  and  over  thirty-two 
million  barrels  of  oil  were  produced  here  in  1 907. 

Business  is  only  an  inferior  and  secondary  allure 
ment  to  the  great  mass  of  its  population.  Climate, 
picturesque  environment,  and  scenic  advantages  are 
the  unconscious  lures  that  draw  men  and  women  into 
its  charmed  area.  Fathers  and  mothers  desire  that 
their  children  be  born  and  reared  under  the  most  per 
fect  out-of-door  conditions;  that  they  may  ever  be  in 
close  proximity  to  and  surrour-ded  by  objects  of  the 
most  perfect  beauty,  pictures  ,&eness,  sublimity  and 
grandeur.  This  is  a  paradise  for  artists,  musicians, 
orators,  poets  and  literati. 

Los  Angeles  alone  has  four  thousand  acres  of  city 
parks,  and  such  cities  as  Redlands,  Riverside,  Pasa 
dena,  Pomona,  Ontario,  Uplands  and  Santa  Barbara 
are  parks  throughout,  save  in  the  few  isolated  streets 
devoted  to  business.  Naturally,  being  so  attractive  to 
the  artistic  and  cultured,  its  schools  are  in  the  hands 


RAMONA'S    COUNTRY   TO-DAY        379 

of  leaders  in  these  lines,  and  no  country  exists  where 
greater  attention  is  given  to' education.  There  are 
polytechnic  schools  and  finely  equipped  high  schools, 
with  two  state  normal  schools,  one  university  and 
several  colleges.  Churches  abound,  and  on  the  moun 
tain  heights  are  two  wonderful  temples  of  astronomy. 
Every  little  town  has  its  well-equipped  and  useful 
public  library,  and  Los  Angeles  is  leading  the  world  of 
thought  in  the  making  of  these  public  institutions  of 
real  helpfulness  and  easy  usefulness  to  the  earnest 
student  and  worker.  Under  its  present  librarian  it  is 
setting  an  example  to  the  world  in  having  established 
and  in  now  successfully  conducting  an  open  air  reading- 
room. 

These,  then,  are  some  of  the  features  of  the  Ramona- 
land  of  to-day.  Yet  there  are  other  and  sad  changes. 
The  Indians  are  nearly  all  gone  —  swept  away  by 
man's  cupidity,  and  only  a  few  scattered  remnants  are 
to  be  found  in  the  far  away  mountain  or  desert  valleys. 
Thousands  of  Chinese  and  Japanese  have  flocked  in  to 
give  the  "  foreign  "  color  to  the  country,  but  nothing 
can  atone  for  the  loss  of  the  unfortunate  natives.  The 
old  Mission  buildings  are  being  cared  for, —  at  least 
preserved  from  further  demolition.  Scores  of  the 
new  inhabitants,  keen-eyed  and  alert  to  all  beauty  and 
harmony  in  their  surroundings,  have  erected  their  own 
homes  in  the  Mission  style  of  architecture, —  a  silent 
and  in  some  cases  unconscious  tribute  to  the  genius  of 
those  Franciscan  fathers,  without  whose  potent  pres 
ence  Ramonaland  would  yet  be  an  unknown  country. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

A   CUMATIC   WONDERLAND 

rTlHE  story  of  Ramona  abounds  in  beautiful  pictures 
•*•  of  the  country  in  which  the  events  transpired.  Mrs. 
Jackson  was  thoroughly  in  love  with  Ramona's  coun 
try.  It  enchanted  her,  it  soothed  her,  it  satisfied  her. 
Its  clear,  blue  skies,  its  equable  climate,  its  marvel 
lous  picturesqueness,  its  astonishing  variety  of  scenic 
wonders,  its  uniqueness  among  lands,  its  interesting 
aborigines,  its  history,  its  romance,  its  possibilities, 
its  vastness, —  all  alike  appealed  to  her.  She  reveled 
in  its  trees,  shrubs  and  flowers,  its  old  adobes,  its  pic 
turesque  ranch  houses,  its  dashing  caballeros,  its  black- 
eyed  stnoritas.  Her  eyes  feasted  on  its  mountains, 
foot-hills,  plains,  sea  beaches,  vast  stretch  of  ocean, 
islands,  and  the  gorgeous  sunrises  and  sunsets  daily 
provided  for  the  delectation  of  its  inhabitants.  She 
realized  what  it  was  to  sit  in  the  garb  of  summer  down 
in  the  valley,  eating  oranges  under  the  trees  from 
which  she  had  picked  them  but  a  few  moments  before, 
while  the  mountain  heights  upon  which  she  gazed 
were  covered  with  fresh  and  virgin  snow. 

To  those  unfamiliar  with  the  climatic  miracle  known 
as  California,  and  especially  that  part  herein  desig 
nated  as  Ramona's  country,  the  stories  of  its  climate, 


A  patch  of  Lupines  in  blossom  in  Southern  California 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 

Page  381 


On  the  beach  after  a  New  Year's  Day  swim  in  the  Pacific  Ocean 

Page  405 


Looking  from  Mt.  Wilson  to  Mt.  San  Antonio  in  winter,  with  fog  effects  in  San 
Gabriel  and  Santa  Anita  Canyons 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman  Page  394 


An  ocean  of  fog,  looking  towards  Pasadena  from  Mt.  Wilson 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 
Page  394 


A    CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          381 

of  its  flower,  tree,  fruit,  and  vegetable  growths,  of  its 
variety  seem  beyond  all  bounds  of  truth.  And  how 
can  those  who  do  not  know,  who  have  not  seen,  be 
made  to  realize?  Faith  seems  stretched  to  the  limit, 
credulity  extended  to  folly,  and  yet  even  then  all  the 
truth  is  not  presented  or  believed.  Californians 
themselves  do  not  realize  to  the  full  the  wonders 
among  which  they  dwell.  Like  their  Eastern  friends, 
they  are  too  busy  to  absorb  more  than  naturally  and 
easily  comes  under  their  ken,  with  the  experiences  of 
an  occasional  holiday  into  the  canyons,  mountains, 
forests,  or  deserts,  or  to  the  seaside  or  islands.  They 
can  only  know  the  charm  of  their  perpetual  Summer- 
land  by  occasionally  leaving  it  and  returning  to  their 
old  homes  in  the  Middle  West,  by  the  Atlantic  Shore, 
in  the  stern  North,  or  among  the  granite-strewn  hills 
of  New  England.  To  be  fully  effective  such  a  return 
journey  should  commence  when  spring  has  done  her 
perfected  work  in  California.  Every  tree,  shrub  and 
flower  is  in  its  new  and  complete  robe,  say  by  April; 
the  leaves  are  large,  full-grown,  and  richly  colored 
with  their  varying  shades  of  green;  the  flowers  have 
grown  so  that  they  appear  beyond  all  reason  in  some 
localities.  There  are  calla  lilies  by  the  acre,  and  tall 
enough  to  be  picked  by  a  man  on  horseback;  hedges 
of  geraniums,  fifteen  feet  high;  rods  and  rods  of  car 
nations  and  pinks;  heliotrope  grown  into  trees,  forty 
feet  high;  roses  of  a  thousand  varieties,  by  the  million, 
it  being  no  rare  thing  to  see  a  hundred  thousand,  two 
hundred  thousand,  or  more,  buds  and  blossoms  and 


382   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

full  blown  roses  on  one  single  bush  at  the  same  mo 
ment;  the  lawns  are  richly  green,  and  the  fruit  trees 
are  laden  with  their  delicious  and  luscious  burdens 
soon  ready  to  be  picked  and  enjoyed. 

With  this  picture  in  mind  he  leaves  for  the  East. 
After  crossing  the  Colorado  River  and  reaching  the 
Arizona  and  Nevada  land  of  cactus  and  sage  brush,  the 
arid  features  of  our  wonderful  country  impress  him 
anew,  but  the  skies  are  still  cloudless  and  blue.  He 
presses  on  over  New  Mexico  or  into  Texas  or  Utah. 
He  crosses  the  Rockies  and  descends  to  the  great 
plains  of  the  Middle  West.  The  scene  has  changed. 
His  blue  and  flawless  sky  is  gone.  Its  blue  has  be 
come  converted  into  a  dull,  lifeless  gray,  and  a  grayish 
tone  permeates  the  whole  atmosphere,  instead  of  the 
brilliant,  vivid  coloring  of  Ramonaland.  The  grass 
seems  washed  out  and  faded.  It  has  not  yet  sprung 
into  life.  The  trees  are  leafless  and  bare.  The  sap 
has  not  yet  begun  to  flow.  There  is  no  indication  of 
blossom  or  fruit.  The  hand  of  winter  has  scarcely 
released  its  hold  on  the  land,  and  the  further  north 
and  east  he  goes,  the  more  these  facts  of  different 
seasons  are  forced  upon  his  attention.  He  asks  him 
self:  Is  this  the  land  I  used  to  know  and  be  contented 
with?  What  is  the  land  I  have  just  left  behind? 
Am  I  the  same  man  I  was  three  days  ago?  Then,  I  was 
in  the  midst  of  buds,  blossoms,  fruit,  flowers,  humming 
birds,  bees,  butterflies,  blue  skies  and  balmy  breezes, 
while  mocking-birds,  linnets,  larks,  thrushes,  orioles 
and  a  score  and  one  feathered  Pattis  sang  their 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          383 

joyous  songs  of  free  life  to  me.  Here,  winter  scarce 
seems  to  have  stepped  aside.  Everything  is  behind. 
The  seasons  are  different.  The  grass  still  suffers 
from  the  cold  and  wet  of  the  wintery  spring ;  the  leaves 
are  afraid  to  appear;  the  buds  shiveringly  refuse  to 
come  forth ;  even  the  skies  are  gray  and  forbidding. 

It  is  at  such  a  time  as  this  that  the  observant  and 
thoughtful  man  awakens  to  a  realization  of  what 
Ramonaland  really  is.  And  no  one  who  has  not  had 
such  an  experience  can  fully  —  nay,  even,  faintly  — • 
comprehend  the  glory  and  wonder  of  what  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson  so  loved  to  picture.  She  was  an  artist 
in  feeling,  in  soul,  in  brain,  in  action.  She  could 
write  the  marvels  her  eyes  saw,  so  that  others  could 
see  them. 

With  the  aid  of  the  camera  I  wish  to  give  to  my 
readers  a  glimpse  of  one  portion  of  this  climatic  won 
derland,  where  Mrs.  Jackson  much  loved  to  be,  viz., 
the  region  of  Pasadena  and  Los  Angeles. 

Little  did  the  caballeros  and  black-eyed  Spanish 
and  Mexican  senoras  and  sehoritas  of  Ramona's  day 
dream  what  a  lifetime  was  to  accomplish  for  their 
lotus-land,  when  the  hated  gringo  in  all  his  pride  of 
conquest  felt  himself  its  master.  The  mountains  had 
scarce  been  scaled  in  scores  of  places,  either  by  Indian, 
Spaniard  or  Mexican,  ere  the  gringo  came.  Peak 
by  peak,  ridge  by  ridge,  range  by  range  was  pathless 
and  trailless  until  the  American  said:  "  I  will  make 
of  these  peaks,  ridges  and  ranges  a  resort  for  the 
thronging  thousands,  nay  millions,  that  will  ere  long 


384   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

reach  this  promised  land,  bent  on  making  it  either 
their  temporary  or  abiding  dwelling  place."  For 
the  gringo  had  larger  foresight  than  the  dreaming, 
though  hot-blooded  Spanish  don.  He  knew  the  rest 
less  fever  that  possesses  his  people,  the  lust  for  travel, 
the  unconquerable  desire  to  see  new  and  beautiful 
landscapes,  the  thirst  for  new  sensations,  and  also  the 
growing  determination  of  the  Eastern  thousands  to 
flee  from  the  storm  and  cold,  the  sleet  and  ice,  the 
fierce,  marrow-freezing  weather  of  their  Atlantic 
winters,  to  enjoy  the  balmy  winters,  and  the  comfort 
able,  cool  nights  of  the  summers  of  this  land  of 
romance,  flowers  and  song.  So  rapidly  he  built  hotels, 
—  palatial  caravan  series, —  for  the  entertainment  and 
housing  of  the  rich  who  were  to  come  for  temporary 
enjoyment.  He  built  residence  palaces,  embowered  in 
flowers  and  enthroned  on  emerald  lawns,  where  the 
art  treasures  of  the  world  could  be  gathered  to  make 
the  interiors*  as-  charming  as  aided  Nature  made  the 
exterior;  where  children  could  be  brought  up  under  the 
healthful  and  vigor  giving  conditions  of  the  outdoor 
life,  while  all  that  wealth,  culture,  refinement  and 
critical  discernment  could  gather  contributed  to  their 
mental  and  artistic  education.  He  set  aside  parks, 
created  boulevards,  beautified  the  streets,  new  and 
old,  required  for  the  business  of  the  cities  —  cities, 
some  of  which  were  transformed  Mexican  pueblos, 
changed  in  a  lifetime  from  a  sleepy,  lazy  happy-go- 
luckiness,  dolce  far  niente-ness,  where  the  spirit  of 
manana  and  poco-tiempo  reigned,  to  active,  bustling, 


A    CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND  385 

shoving,  money-grasping,  pleasure-seizing,  American 
arenas  of  local  trade,  far-reaching  commerce,  modern 
education  and  strenuous  civilization.  He  built  thea 
ters  and  concert  halls,  libraries  and  high  schools, 
polytechnic  institutes,  academies  of  science  and 
universities.  Electricity  was  harnessed  to  send  pon 
derous  passenger  cars  whirling  at  rapid  speed  through 
the  streets,  where  a  few  short  years  before  the  carreta 
lumbered  and  creaked,  pitched  and  rolled  on  its  uneven, 
dilatory  way.  Gay  caballeros  and  dark -browed 
vaqueros  gave  place  to  "  devil-wagons,"  "  chug- 
carts,"  runabouts,  automobiles,  propelled  by  electricity, 
gasoline  and  steam,  which,  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Ramona's  day,  would  literally  have  seemed  to  be 
instruments  of  the  evil  one  from  the  nethermost  hell, 
roaring  and  snorting  like  demons,  speeding  like  devils, 
reckless  like  fiends,  and  smelling  horribly. 

But  the  scaling  of  the  mountains  was  done  a  little 
more  slowly.  Even  in  Mrs.  Jackson's  day  they  were 
still  inaccessible,  except  by  the  old  trails,  on  foot,  or 
on  burro,  mule  or  horse. 

About  fifteen  years  ago,  while  to  some  it  seemed  an 
impossibility,  and  to  others  a  desecration,  even  were 
it  accomplished,  few  were  surprised  when  the  news 
papers  announced  that  one  of  the  citizens  of  Pasadena, 
Thaddeus  S.  C.  Lowe,  had  determined  to  construct 
an  electric  railway  which  should  scale  and  make 
accessible  to  every  one  the  highest  peaks  overlooking 
the  cities  of  Los  Angeles  and  Pasadena. 

Could  he  do  it  ?     The  grades  were  too  steep !     Even 


386   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

the  energetic  gringos  smiled  doubtingly  and  said  the 
professor  had  attempted  one  thing  too  many. 

But  the  engineers  were  set  at  work;  the  surveys  were 
made,  discussed  and  decided  upon;  the  gangs  of  graders, 
with  pick  and  shovel,  mattock  and  drill,  powder  and 
dynamite,  and  all  their  rude  and  picturesque  ac 
companiments,  invaded  the  foot-hills  and  the  canyon 
known  by  the  name  of  Rubio.  Then  the  steep  ascent 
of  Echo  Mountain  was  attempted  and  ultimately  the 
Great  Incline  came  into  existence,  with  its  nearly 
three  thousand  feet  of  length,  and  thirteen  hundred 
feet  of  direct  ascent,  its  three-railed  track  and  its  won 
derful  automatic  turnout,  upon  which  the  ascending 
and  descending  cars  take  their  own  sides  without  switch 
or  switchmen.  These  cars,  or  White  Chariots  as  they 
are  termed,  look  like  three-tiered  opera  boxes,  and  the 
conductor,  a  metal  wand  in  his  hand,  with  which  he 
touches  a  wire,  seems  a  wizard  of  old  like  Merlin,  for, 
at  his  touch,  the  car  goes  forward  or  stops,  though 
nothing  but  an  insensate  cable  appears  as  the  traction 
power. 

Below  is  Rubio  Pavilion,  where  eager  and  merry 
thousands  come  to  dance  and  enjoy  the  near  by  Can 
yon,  with  its  ferns,  flowers,  dells,  and  waterfalls. 
As  the  car  ascends  it  passes  through  a  steep  gorge 
hewn  out  of  the  solid  granite,  and  over  a  trestle  that, 
though  but  two  hundred  feet  long,  is  a  hundred  feet 
higher  at  one  end  than  at  the  other.  The  grade  in 
creases  from  fifty-eight  per  cent  to  sixty-two,  then 
drops  to  forty-eight  and  finally  to  about  forty,  when 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          387 

the  car  stops  on  Echo  Mountain,  where  the  greatest 
searchlight  in  the  world  is  perched,  and  where  the 
firing  of  a  gun  awakens  echo  after  echo,  seven,  eight, 
ten  times,  in  decreasing  volume,  but  alt  clear  and 
distinct.  Here  the  wizard  of  the  mountain  also  built 
a  magnificent  hotel  —  Echo  Mountain  House  —  but  a 
devastating  fire  swept  it  away  after  it  had  afforded 
shelter  for  several  years  to  thousands  of  guests.  A 
lesser  Chalet  also  entertained  the  people,  while  on  a 
crest,  a  hundred  or  more  feet  above,  a  temple  of 
science  was  erected  —  The  Lowe  Observatory  —  where 
a  powerful  sixteen-inch  refracting  telescope  was  set  up 
and  nightly  used  by  one  of  the  learned  searchers  of 
the  heavens. 

But  the  heights  were  not  yet  attained.  Though 
the  difficulties  were  great  and  in  places  seemed  well 
nigh  insurmountable,  Professor  Lowe  pushed  on  and 
up,  and  his  army  of  helpers  soon  completed  the  Alpine 
Division,  with  its  thrilling  rides  along  the  edges  of 
yawning  abysses,  through  live  oak  and  other  groves, 
past  rivers  of  rocks,  around  the  exciting  Circular 
Bridge,  doubling  upon  itself  again  and  again,  but 
always  with  the  determined  object  before  it  of  reaching 
the  summit.  A  thousand  feet  before  that  was  attained, 
however,  a  pause  was  made,  and  Alpine  Tavern  —  a 
rustic,  comfortable,  modern,  well-equipped  mountain 
hotel  —  was  built.  Here,  within  its  walls,  a  half 
hundred  guests  may  sit  before  one  of  the  most  capacious 
and  ruggedly  handsome  fireplaces  in  the  world,  over 
which  the  cordial  motto  gives  welcome:  "  Ye  ornament 


388   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

of  ye  house  is  ye  guest  who  doth  frequent  it."  Drives 
for  carriages,  bridle  paths  for  horsemen,  tents  for  visi 
tors  who  want  mountain  simplicity,  add  to  the  allure 
ments  of  Alpine  Tavern,  while  young  and  old  alike 
enjoy  playing  with  and  petting  the  tame  squirrels 
which  come  at  a  call,  or  on  sight  of  a  nut  held  up 
temptingly  within  reach.  Below  the  Tavern  a  couple 
of  monster  bears  play  and  frolic,  climbing  poles,  duck 
ing  themselves  in  their  bath  tubs,  and  eating  all  the 
nuts,  sugar,  candies,  crackers  and  other  tit-bits  the 
interested  guests  give  to  them. 

Here  the  railway  at  present  ends,  for,  unfortunately, 
the  financial  panic  of  1893  caught  Professor  Lowe  in 
its  toils.  His  lavish  expenditures  for  the  good  of  the 
people  of,  and  visitors  to  Ramona's  country  were  not 
as  fully  appreciated  by  the  local  financiers  as  they 
should  have  been,  and  they  foolishly  and  selfishly 
crowded  him  to  the  wall,  ignoring  his  vast  achieve 
ments  in  the  past,  which  were  the  greatest  assurances 
that  his  promises  for  the  future  would  be  fulfilled, 
given  a  little  time  to  withstand  the  pressure  that  the 
whole  country  was  feeling.  These  promises  were 
great,  were  astounding,  were  almost  beyond  belief. 
But  they  would  have  been  carried  out  had  it  not  been 
for  the  short-sighted  policy  of  those  whose  purse- 
strings  were  held  too  tightly  to  ever  do  a  noble,  generous 
or  unselfish  deed.  They  included  the  completion  of  the 
railway  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Lowe,  whose  tri-crested 
summit  thrusts  its  peaks  into  the  skies  about  six 
thousand  feet  above  sea  level;  where  another  great 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          389 

hotel  would  have  been  erected,  and  near  which  it  was 
contemplated  excavating  from  the  solid  granite  an 
underground  temple  to  surpass  in  grandeur  and  im- 
pressiveness  the  temples  of  the  Caves  of  Elephanta. 
Then,  spanning  the  abyss  between  Mount  Lowe  and 
Observatory  Peak  (the  San  Gabriel  peak  of  Ramona's 
day),  a  swinging  cable  railway  would  have  conveyed, 
in  perfect  safety,  eager  sight-seers  from  the  lower  to 
the  higher  peak  and  thence  on  to  Wilson's  Peak. 

That  this  was  not  an  impossible  dream  is  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that  in  South  America  and  also  on  the 
American  River,  in  California,  these  aerial  railways 
are  in  active,  daily,  successful  operation,  where  whole 
carloads  of  ponderously  heavy  logs  —  a  thousand 
fold  heavier  than  any  carload  of  passengers  would  be  — 
are  transhipped  bodily  from  one  side  of  the  canyon  to 
the  other,  while  the  American  River,  a  mere  silvery 
thread  seen  from  that  vast  height,  brawls  madly 
along  two  thousand  feet  or  so  below.  Nor  was  this 
all.  Professor  Lowe's  plans  included  the  establish 
ment  of  an  institution  for  scientific  research  which 
would  have  gone  far  in  advance  of  any  similar  insti 
tution  the  world  has  yet  seen.  His  dream  was  to 
welcome  men  with  ideas,  the  incipient,  embryo  Kdi- 
sons,  Dollands,  Bells,  Morses,  Stephensons,  Bessemers, 
the  practical  inventors,  as  well  as  the  pure  scientists 
like  Newton,  Thompson,  Henry,  Farady  and  Loeb. 
To  each  and  all  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  say :  Come  and 
welcome.  Let  us  help  you  work  out  your  deep  problems, 
whether  of  pure  science  or  practical  invention.  We 


3Qo   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

will  provide  you  and  your  families  with  homes  and 
sustenance,  we  will  give  you  all  needful  equipment, 
where,  in  this  pure,  asceptic  and  quiet  atmosphere, 
you  may  conduct  your  experiments  and  seek  to  solve 
the  problems  of  life  and  of  the  ages.  To  aid  in  this 
work  he  would  have  built  the  largest  and  best  as 
tronomical  observatory  that  money  and  science  could 
have  designed;  a  chemical  laboratory  perfect  in  all  its 
appointments  would  have  been  provided ;  indeed  every 
known,  suggested  or  dreamed  of  necessity  would  have 
been  freely  and  generously  provided,  for  this  man's 
heart  was  as  large  as  all  mankind,  generous  to  the 
expenditure  of  the  millions  of  Golconda,  and  with  no 
other  thought  of  recompense  than  the  love  of  his 
fellow  men  and  the  immortality  it  ever  insures. 

These  plans,  however,  were  not  to  be.  The  Mount 
Ivowe  Railroad,  with  all  its  interesting  accessories, 
passed  into  other  hands,  and  now  it  is  an  integral  part 
of  the  Los  Angeles  system  of  electric  railways,  which 
embraces  a  large  part  of  Ramona's  country. 

What  one  man  fails  to  do,  however,  his  plans  often 
indirectly  suggest  to  others.  Professor  Lewis  Swift 
and  his  son,  Edwin,  gained  so  many  new  points  of 
important  information  by  means  of  the  establishment 
of  the  Lowe  Observatory,  that  the  directors  of  the 
Carnegie  Institution  —  perhaps  the  most  wealthy 
scientific  corporation  in  the  world  —  are  building  and 
equipping  on  Mount  Wilson, —  a  sister  peak  to  Mount 
Lowe  —  an  observatory  that  is  commanding  the 
attention  of  the  scientific  world. 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          391 

In  1904,  Professor  George  Hale,  who  for  many  years 
had  been  director  of  the  Yerkes  Observatory,  at  Wil 
liams  Bay,  Wisconsin,  aided  by  his  official  photogra 
pher,  Ferdinand  Ellerman,  brought  a  small  horizontal 
telescope  and  some  minor  apparatus  and  erected 
them  on  Mount  Wilson,  where  the  present  hotel  now 
stands.  Here  several  direct  photographs  of  the  sun 
were  made,  and  others  of  the  sun's  spectrum.  These 
were  of  such  a  high  order  of  excellence  that  Professor 
Hale  determined,  if  possible,  to  establish  a  permanent 
solar  observatory  on  this  site.  Accordingly  he  jour 
neyed  to  Washington  and  there  interested  the  directors 
of  the  Carnegie  Institution  in  his  plans  to  such  an 
extent  that  they  made  a  grant  which  enabled  him  to 
begin  the  erection  of  a  horizontal  telescope  building 
of  steel  frame,  covered  with  canvas.  In  this  building 
massive  piers  were  erected,  and  the  Snow  Telescope 
(purchased  from  the  Yerkes  Observatory)  and  other 
instruments  placed  thereupon.  These  instruments 
are  used  for  photographing  the  image  of  the  sun, 
six  and  one  half  inches  in  diameter,  formed  by  the 
Snow  Telescope.  The  mirrors  of  this  great  telescope 
are  thirty  inches  and  twenty-four  inches,  respectively, 
in  diameter,  and  its  focus  is  sixty  feet. 

Work  with  this  instrument  was  begun  in  the  spring 
of  1905,  and  up  to  the  present  time  many  valuable 
results  have  been  obtained.  With  the  large  spectro- 
graph  the  spectra  of  the  sun-spots  have  been  photo 
graphed  as  never  before,  and  by  means  of  photographs 
of  the  spectra  of  elements,  taken  in  the  laboratory, 


3Q2   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

under  different  electrical  and  temperature  conditions, 
much  information  has  been  obtained  about  the  nature 
of  these  dark  phenomena  observed  at  different  times 
on  the  sun's  surface. 

Spectra  of  the  opposite  limbs  of  the  sun  are  photo 
graphed  side  by  side,  and  from  measures  of  these  the 
rotation  of  the  sun  is  determined.  Photographs  of 
the  spectrum  of  the  light  from  the  center  and  edge  of 
the  sun  show  very  striking  differences.  With  the 
spectroheliograph,  an  instrument  for  photographing 
the  image  of  the  sun,  in  the  light  coming  from  any 
element  in  the  vapors  in  the  sun's  atmosphere,  many 
photographs  have  shown  new  and  curious  phenomena. 
With  the  present  instrument  photographs  are  made, 
showing  the  distribution  of  the  vapors  of  calcium, 
hydrogen  and  iron.  The  prominences  around  the 
edge  are  also  photographed  by  placing  a  disk  of  metal 
over  the  sun's  image,  causing  an  artificial  eclipse,  and 
allowing  the  light  around  the  edge  of  the  sun  to  pass 
through  the  instrument. 

Direct  photographs  of  the  sun  with  a  high  speed 
focal  plane  shutter  are  taken  daily  and  used  in  con 
nection  with  those  taken  with  the  spectroheliograph. 

During  the  summer  of  1907  a  steel  tower,  sixty  feet 
in  height,  was  erected  next  to  the  Snow  Telescope 
and  on  the  top  of  this  tower  a  similar  telescope  was 
placed,  save  that  instead  of  a  concave  mirror  forming 
the  image,  an  objective  is  used,  and  the  light  is  sent 
down  vertically,  and  the  image  formed  sixty  feet  below, 
on  the  instruments  in  the  house  at  the  base  of  the  tower. 


The  Hotel  at  Mt.  Wilson  after  the  first  snow 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 

Page  393 


The  Hotel  at  Mt.  Wilson  after  several  snow  storms 
Photo  by  Ferdinand  Ellerman 

Page  393 


A    CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND  393 

The  optical  parts  of  these  instruments  are  in  a  well, 
thirty  feet  deep,  to  insure  a  uniform  temperature. 
The  results  with  this  instrument  are  all  that  had  been 
hoped  for,  and  photographs  of  the  highest  precision 
are  obtained  with  it. 

During  1907  the  mounting  for  the  large  sixty-inch 
reflector  was  put  together  in  the  shop  at  Pasadena. 
The  disk  was  finished,  and  the  iron  for  the  dome  and 
building  transported  to  the  mountain  and  erected. 
In  1908  this  great  instrument  was  transported  to  the 
mountain  and  installed  in  its  home.  With  this  tele 
scope  the  light  of  stars  will  be  analyzed  and  investi 
gated  as  never  before,  and  photographs  of  nebulae, 
those  gaseous  bodies  giving  out  feeble  light,  and  star 
clusters  and  planets  will  be  depicted  on  a  large  scale 
and  with  great  precision.  This  telescope  will  not  be 
used  on  the  sun,  but  for  night  work  exclusively. 

These  particulars  of  the  scientific  work  of  the  Mount 
Wilson  Observatory  clearly  show  that  the  scientific 
side  of  the  climatic  conditions  that  exist  in  Ramona- 
land  are  as  important  as  are  the  merely  esthetic  or 
beautiful. 

Through  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Ellerman  the  readers 
of  Through  Ramona's  Country  are  enabled  to  see  the 
summit  of  Mount  Wilson  in  winter,  when  spring  and 
summer  conditions  reign  supreme  in  the  valley. 
Here  are  six,  eight,  and  even  more  feet  of  snow  (in 
places),  while  in  the  valley  snow  has  fallen  but  three 
times  in  twenty-one  years,  and  then  merely  remained 
on  the  ground  for  a  few  hours. 


394   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

On  New  Year's  Day,  for  several  years,  it  was  my 
habit  to  take  a  trip  from  my  home  in  Pasadena,  up  to 
the  snow  of  the  mountains,  then  return  to  the  great 
flower  festival,  held  for  twenty  years  each  New  Year's 
Day,  in  Pasadena,  entitled  "  The  Tournament  of 
Roses,"  and  wind  up  with  a  delightful  swim  in  the 
Pacific  Ocean.  To  be  able  actually  to  revel  in  all  the 
sports  of  winter, —  tobogganing,  sleigh-riding,  snow 
balling,  sliding,  the  building  of  snow-forts  and  snow 
men, —  to  suddenly  transfer  oneself  to  a  scene  of 
semi-tropic  luxuriance,  where  waving  palms,  flowering 
heliotrope,  banks  of  geraniums,  hedges  of  calla  lilies, 
masses  of  flaming  poinsettias,  forests  of  roses,  and  a 
wild  riot  of  climbing  bougainvilleas,  the  whole  over 
arched  with  a  cloudless  vault  of  turquoise,  form  a 
setting  for  a  flower  carnival  which,  in  its  prodigal 
profusion,  rivals  the  most  elaborate  and  world -famed 
of  the  flower  carnivals  of  Europe,  and  then,  an  hour 
later,  to  enjoy  a  swim  in  the  Pacific  Ocean, —  all  this 
is  a  New  Year's  Day  experience,  varied  enough  to 
galvanize  the  most  blase  into  new  sensation,  and  to 
give  to  the  normal  man  and  woman  entirely  new  con 
ceptions  of  physical  enjoyment.  This  trip  I  took  so 
often  that,  from  my  writings  and  lecturings  about  it, 
many  others  became  desirous  of  enjoying  it  and 
hundreds  have  since  had  the  novel  experience  of 
a  ride  "from  Alpine  Snow  to  Semi-Tropical  Sea,"  the 
actual  time  taken  in  traveling  from  one  to  the  other 
being  less  than  three  hours.  Where  else  can  such  a 
climatic  miracle  be  found?  Let  the  reader  make  the 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND  395 

journey  with  me  and   endeavor  to  imagine  its  varied 
charms  as  he  travels. 

Pasadena,  on  New  Year's  Day,  generally  presents  a 
somewhat  similar  appearance  to  an  Eastern  country 
town  in  June.  The  sky  is  pure  blue  and  as  clear  and 
brilliant  as  that  of  Egypt  or  the  Mediterranean.  Buds, 
blossoms,  bees,  butterflies  and  birds  enchant  the  eye. 
Flowers  there  are  of  thousands  of  varieties,  flaunting 
their  varied  colors  in  a  riotous  and  unrestrained  blaze  of 
gorgeousness  and  glory.  Mocking-birds,  larks,  linnets, 
thrushes,  and  robins,  with  a  score  of  other  birds,  flit  to 
and  fro  in  the  branches  of  the  evergreen  trees,  twitter 
ing  and  chattering,  singing  and  caroling  as  only  care 
free  and  innocent  birds  can.  The  atmosphere  is  balmy 
and  pleasant,  women  wearing  the  light  clothes  that  are 
seen  in  the  East  only  in  the  middle  of  summer.  In  the 
early  morning  hours  there  may  be  a  slight  sharp  tang  in 
the  air,  but  it  is  kept  at  bay  by  those  who  walk  or  ride 
horseback,  and  those  who  drive  or  ride  on  the  open 
cars  find  a  jacket  or  light  wrap  sufficient  protection. 
On  a  "  through  car  "  from  Los  Angeles  the  sightseer  is 
whirled  past  fields  of  growing  grain,  through  sweet- 
scented  orange  groves  where  golden  globes  glitter 
amidst  the  sheen  of  brilliantly  green  foliage,  and 
where  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  waxen  and 
creamy  blossoms  give  to  the  gazer  the  impression  that 
he  is  looking  upon  a  living  though  silent  sea-green 
ocean  flecked  with  whitecaps.  On  dashes  the  car  past 
tree-embowered  villas,  by  stretches  of  lawn  that 
remind  one  of  the  green  fields  of  the  Emerald  Isle, 


396   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

catching  glimpses  of  bungalows  and  cottages  of  varied 
and  pleasing  architectures,  past  monster  hotels, 
flower-surrounded  and  emblazoned,  schools,  colleges, 
churches,  stores  and  public  buildings.  Here  and 
there  nestle  in  cosy  nooks  of  the  foot-hills  or  on  well- 
chosen  sites  houses  of  Mission  style.  For,  as  I  have 
shown  in  others  of  my  books  the  Mission  Architecture 
is  truly  a  "  Style,"  and  was  born  and  nourished,  encour 
aged  and  developed  in  this  beauteous  Ramona's  country. 

One  is  whisked  through  the  streets  of  Pasadena,  to  the 
foot-hills  of  Altadena;  thence  into  the  recesses  of 
Rubio  Canyon;  up  the  Great  Cable  Incline;  past 
the  monster  Searchlight  and  the  Lowe  Observa 
tory,  to  the  live-oak  groves  of  the  north  side  of  the 
range,  and  finally  to  the  shoulders  of  Mount  Lowe, 
where  Alpine  Tavern  nestles  secure  and  serene  among 
a  thousand  giant  pines,  spruces  and  sycamores.  From 
here  it  is  a  short  ride  up  well  engineered  trails  to  the 
summit  of  Mount  Lowe,  six  thousand  feet  above 
sea  level,  and  from  which  point  several  peaks  over  ten 
thousand  feet  high  may  be  clearly  discerned,  viz., 
Mounts  San  Antonio,  San  Gorgonio,  San  Bernardino, 
San  Jacinto,  together  with  the  line  to  the  west,  and 
north,  denoting  the  Sierras  Santa  Ines  and  Santa  Lucia, 
and,  to  the  north  and  east,  the  Sierra  Nevada,  in  which 
latter  range  over  a  hundred  peaks  stand  proudly  with 
their  heads  ten  thousand  feet  in  the  blue  of  the  cloud 
less  heavens. 

Who  that  is  living  out  his  life  on  the  plains,  or  shut 
in  between  the  canyon  walls  of  a  city  can  really  and 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          397 

truly  comprehend  such  a  land?  It  is  impossible. 
No  imagination  is  equal  or  competent  to  the  task. 
And  to  those  of  us  who  are  familiar  with  both  East  and 
West  the  realization  and  enjoyment  of  it  become 
more  keen  as  the  years  go  by. 

January  I,  1908,  was  as  warm  as  a  summer's  day 
and  one  who  did  not  know  what  he  was  to  experience 
would  have  started  out  for  the  mountains  without 
warm  clothing  or  an  overcoat.  I  am  not  able  to  say 
whether  the  accompanying  snow  photographs  of  Mr. 
Kllerman's  were  made  on  New  Year's  Day,  and  it  is 
quite  immaterial  whether  they  were  or  not.  They 
could  have  been  so  made. 

Can  any  one  realize  the  speediness  of  the  change 
who  has  never  experienced  it?  There,  perpetual 
summer  or  spring,  here,  deep  snow.  And  the  re 
markable  thing  is  that,  from  various  vantage  points 
on  the  mountains,  one  may  stand  in  the  snow  and  look 
down  upon  the  valley,  where,  practically  speaking, 
snow  never  comes. 

Then,  speedily,  the  return  to  the  valley  is  made. 
Here,  in  Pasadena  again,  the  streets  and  avenues  are 
already  lined  with  people,  standing  or  sitting  in  buggies, 
wagons,  automobiles,  and  on  bicycles.  This  is  the  chief 
day  of  the  year,  as  well  as  the  first.  It  is  the  day  of  the 
Tournament  of  Roses.  More  visitors  throng  the  streets 
of  this  city  that  occupies  the  site  of  a  sheep  ranch  of  a 
short  time  prior  to  Ramona's  day  than  the  whole  state 
contained  (of  white  people)  "  before  the  gringo  came." 

Exactly  at  the  appointed  time  the  procession  begins 


398   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

to  move.  There  is  nothing  exciting,  warlike,  or 
martial  about  it,  for  it  is  composed  of  nothing  but 
vehicles  covered  with  flowers,  and  yet,  strange  to  say, 
tears  often  flood  the  eyes  and  sobs  lift  the  breasts  of 
those  who  gaze.  It  is  a  spectacle  that  quickens  the 
emotions,  that  stirs  the  soul,  for  flowers  are  thoughts 
of  God  made  manifest  in  all  their  perfection  and 
beauty,  and,  somehow,  when  one  sees  so  many  of  them 
at  a  time  their  exquisite  glory  seems  to  give  one  a  fore 
shadowing  of  the  beauty  of  the  Divine.  To  merely 
enumerate  the  various  exhibits  of  the  procession  of  1908 
would  take  up  many  pages  of  this  book.  Here  are  a 
few :  The  Altadena  School  had  an  airship,  with  bamboo 
frame  covered  with  silk,  measuring  thirty-five  feet 
long  and  seven  feet  in  diameter.  Its  motive  power 
was  an  automobile,  but  that  was  so  cleverly  con 
cealed  that  the  airship  appeared  to  move  without 
outside  aid.  Numerous  smilax-covered  ropes  con 
nected  the  car  to  the  balloon  bag  above  and  red 
carnations  and  roses  were  used  in  the  greatest  profu 
sion.  Around  the  edge  of  the  car  were  poinsettias  and 
roses,  and  the  twelve  children  inside  the  car  wore  white 
soldier  caps  and  suits. 

The  Washington  School  exhibit  represented  a  great 
basket,  filled  with  butterfly  children  and  surmounted 
by  a  yellow  gauze  butterfly  five  feet  high.  Bougain- 
villeas  and  white  roses  covered  the  basket  and  hid  the 
vehicle  below.  Six  white  horses  drew  the  load,  their 
harness  twined  with  asparagus  plumosis  and  bougain- 
villea-colored  cambric. 


One  of  the  flower  embowered  carriages  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses 

Page  398 


A  school  turnout  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses 

Page  399 


A  float  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses 

Page  398 


One  of  the  floats  at  the  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses 

Page  398 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          399 

The  basket  was  filled  with  little  girls  wearing  gauze 
wings  of  the  prevailing  color  as  worked  into  the  butter 
fly  above.  Boy  outriders  on  cunning  little  burros,  the 
saddle  blankets  of  bougainvilleas,  the  boys  wearing 
white  duck  blouses  and  trousers  with  leather  leggins 
and  W.  S.  in  yellow  monograms  on  their  white  caps 
rode  beside  the  load  of  butterflies.  On  one  side  of  the 
basket  was  the  word  "  Washington  "  in  white  roses. 

The  McKinley  School  was  represented  with  a  floral 
basket,  in  which  rode  four  little  maids  from  that  school. 
The  body  of  the  basket  was  made  up  of  white  mar 
guerites.  From  each  side  extended  three  poles,  from 
the  end  of  which  were  suspended  baskets  of  lovely 
white  roses.  Streamers  extended  also  to  a  number 
of  footmen  at  each  side  of  the  vehicle.  Two  hand 
some  white  horses  clothed  in  bright  yellow  harness 
drew  the  pretty  basket  with  its  load  of  fresh-faced 
posies.  Bancroft  Library 

Columbia  School  entered  a  one-horse  victoria,  in 
which  three  girls  rode.  They  were  garbed  in  white  and 
green,  and  the  vehicle  was  a  mass  of  carnations,  roses 
and  ferns.  A  large  white  horse  drew  the  victoria. 

The  entry  of  Grant  School  represented  an  immense 
poinsettia  blossom  borne  outspread  upon  an  electric 
runabout  and  zealously  guarded  by  General  Grant 
and  his  staff,  mounted  on  gaily  caparisoned  horses,  and 
wearing  the  full  uniform  of  their  rank.  The  blossom, 
largely  worked  out  of  the  natural  flowers,  was  fully 
fourteen  feet  across  and  as  the  motive  power  was 
entirely  concealed  in  a  mass  of  greenery  in  which  the 


400   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

blossom  lay,  it  had  the  appearance  of  gracefully  floating 
along  the  line  of  march. 

In  the  center  of  the  great  flower  sat  six  little  girls, 
wearing  red  caps  and  fluffy  capes  of  yellow,  shaded  into 
green  below,  the  spreading  dark  red  petals  or  braces 
and  the  clustered  heads  of  the  little  girls,  making  the 
deception  complete. 

Thirty  little  tots  from  the  Roosevelt  Kindergarten 
were  more  than  charming  in  their  representation  of  a 
great  United  States  shield,  the  red  and  white  stripes 
being  indicated  by  little  girls'  dresses  and  the  starry 
field  above  by  little  boys.  The  boys  who  played  the 
star  parts  were  garbed  in  blue  and  bore  aloft  bright 
white  stars  which  could  hardly  be  called  fixed.  Red 
geraniums  and  violets  were  the  principal  flowers  used. 

Two  horses  drew  the  precious  load  and  two  proud 
footmen  walked  beside  their  heads.  A  couple  of  little 
girls  were  perched  behind  with  big  Teddy  bears  in  their 
chubby  hands  and  a  significant  stork  stood  gravely  on 
one  leg  above  it  all. 

Here  was  a  four-in-hand  decorated  with  gaillardia 
blossoms,  followed  by  one  covered  with  asparagus  and 
royal  poinsettias.  The  next  was  a  float  in  the  shape 
of  a  shell-like  barge  the  body  of  which  was  in  green, 
bordered  with  scarlet  geraniums  and  roses.  The  Fire 
Department  used  palm  fronds,  smilax,  scarlet  gerani 
ums,  and  roses  to  decorate  their  useful  engines,  and 
made  a  gay  display.  Floats,  fours-in-hand,  electric 
runabouts,  automobiles,  buggies,  bicycles,  all  smoth 
ered  in  flowers  so  that  the  original  appearance  of  the 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND  401 

vehicle  was  completely  lost,  followed  one  another  in 
rapid  succession  until  there  was  over  a  mile  of  these 
beautiful  floral  displays.  The  perfume  of  millions 
of  flowers  permeated  the  atmosphere  and  lent  its  aid 
to  produce  the  pleasant  intoxication  one  always  feels 
in  the  presence  of  this  gorgeous  pageant. 

What  a  wonderful  change  from  the  days  of  Ramona ! 
How  the  few  old  senoritas  who  remain  from  that  time 
must  gaze  and  wonder  at  the  crowds,  the  excitement 
of  it  all,  so  like,  yet  so  different  from  their  own  Mexican 
and  Spanish  fiestas. 

But  the  parade  is  only  a  part  of  the  day's  enjoyment. 
The  modern  gringo  has  evidently  partaken  largely  of 
the  spirit  of  the  gay  caballero  of  Ramona's  day,  for 
the  crowd  now  adjourned  to  "  Tournament  Park," 
where  every  preparation  had  been  made  for  those 
sports  with  horses  that  mankind  has  always  delighted 
in  from  the  dawn  of  history. 

Another  touch  of  Ramona's  day  was  the  barbecue 
prepared  in  truly  Spanish  style  by  Senor  Jose  Romero, 
of  Los  Angeles,  who  was  well  known  for  his  ability  in 
this  line  when  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was  writing 
Ramona.  Over  four  thousand  people  partook  of  the 
barbecued  meats  that  he  prepared  on  this  occasion. 
The  day  before  he  and  his  assistants  kindled  fires  in  three 
deep  pits,  and  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  the 
half  ton  of  choice  beef  was  deposited  above  the  hot 
rocks  that  were  to  do  the  roasting.  Over  the  pits 
wooden  frames,  covered  with  burlap,  were  placed, 
and  then  the  whole  was  piled  over  with  earth  until  the 


402   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

pits  were  well-nigh  air-tight.  At  noon  the  first  pit 
was  opened,  and  the  zest  with  which  the  hungry 
visitors  attacked  the  meat  handed  out  to  them  was  the 
best  possible  demonstration  of  the  success  of  the  cook. 

But  eating  was  a  small  part  of  the  afternoon's  en 
joyment.  There  were  "  bronco  busting,"  a  stage 
hold-up  and  the  capture  of  the  bandits,  and,  most 
exciting  of  all,  genuine  four-horse  chariot  races. 
Since  Ben  Hur  first  made  its  appearance  we  have 
become  familiar  with  the  perfunctory  chariot  races 
of  the  wild  west  shows  and  circuses,  but  here  the  best 
bred  horses  of  California,  put  in  training  for  months, 
were  run  with  as  much  of  human  passion  and  deep-seated 
emotion  as  entered  into  the  race  so  vividly  described 
by  the  warrior  novelist.  On  this  particular  occasion, 
indeed,  there  was  a  keener  feeling  than  usual,  a  dispute 
having  arisen  two  years  before  between  two  con 
testants,  which  was  now  to  be  settled.  As  is  so  often 
the  case,  however,  the  really  exciting  event  was  un 
expected.  The  earlier  races  speedily  developed  two 
main  rivals, —  these  were  a  quartet  of  black  thorough 
breds,  owned  by  the  notorious  Lucky  Baldwin  and 
driven  by  one  of  his  horsemen,  named  C.  C.  West,  and 
the  other  four  fiery  creatures  held  in  hand  by  P.  B. 
Michel,  who  had  won  with  them  many  similar  races. 
The  excitement  of  this  final  race  was  in  the  air.  Every 
one  felt  it,  and  "  breathless  interest  "  seems  as  good  a 
phrase  as  any  other  to  denote  the  expectancy  of  the 
crowd.  Here  is  a  true  description,  written  at  the  time : 

"  West,  who  is  one  of  the  finest  horsemen  in  Southern 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          403 

California,  was  first  on  the  track.  He  was  picturesquely 
dressed  with  gilded  shoes  and  a  flowing  cape,  em 
blazoned  with  a  Maltese  cross.  He  was  a  fine  figure 
of  old  Rome. 

"His  horses  were  on  fire  with  excitement.  Yet  so 
perfect  was  his  control  that  he  held  the  plunging, 
rearing  steeds  with  almost  careless  indifference  as  he 
curbed  them  before  the  judge's  stand  to  receive  his 
instructions.  He  was  to  have  the  inside  track,  as  the 
lot  had  decided. 

"  While  the  judges  were  still  shouting  at  him  through 
a  megaphone,  Michel's  superb  team  came  sweeping  out 
of  the  paddock  and  came  curveting  and  dancing  with 
little  excited  plunges  down  the  track. 

"  The  two  chariots  made  a  little  procession  of  kicking, 
plunging  horses  as  they  swept  past  the  Tournament 
Queen  and  swung  around  in  a  long  turn  like  a  team  of 
artillery  horses. 

"  For  a  few  yards  they  came  slowing  down  the  track 
side  by  side,  fighting  for  their  heads.  Then,  as  by  a 
simultaneous  impulse,  the  reins  shot  loose  across  their 
necks.  They  responded  with  a  fierce,  untamed  burst. 

"  They  came  past  the  grand  stand  like  a  stampede. 
The  chariots  roared  as  they  whirled  along.  Michel's 
chariot,  on  the  outside,  was  a  trifle  in  the  lead. 

"  As  they  reached  for  the  first  turn  in  the  track, 
the  straining  eyes  of  the  crowd  saw  Michel  suddenly 
whirl  his  team  inward  in  front  of  West  in  an  attempt 
to  take  the  inside  track.  There  was  not  room  enough. 

"  West's  sensitive  team  veered  in  toward  the  fence 


404   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

as  far  as  they  could.  But  there  was  no  room.  Some 
terrible  thing  was  about  to  happen.  Every  one  could 
see  that. 

"  Then  the  racers  shot  out  of  sight  around  a  bend  in 
the  fence. 

"  A  frightened  hush  fell  over  the  crowd  as  they 
waited  for  the  crash.  No  crash  was  heard,  but  in  a 
moment  a  perspiring,  agitated  Roman  in  a  toga,  with 
his  cape  streaming  in  the  wind  came  running  heavily 
down  the  track  yelling  '  Foul,  foul,  foul.5  It  was 
West. 

"  Gradually  the  story  of  the  accident  came  out. 

"  In  trying  to  take  the  inside  track,  Michel  drove  his 
chariot  wheel  into  the  quivering,  plunging  team  of  his 
rival.  In  the  jumble  no  witness  could  see  exactly 
what  happened. 

"  A  most  astonishing  thing  took  place,  however. 
Two  of  the  horses  went  down  —  Czar  and  his  running 
mate.  Czar,  being  the  outside  horse,  went  down  in  a 
crumpled  heap,  and  the  whole  team  and  chariot  went 
over  him.  He  shook  himself  and  came  up  without  a 
shred  of  harness  on  except  a  piece  of  the  headstall. 
Every  strap  had  been  jerked  off  in  the  tangle. 

"  The  other  horse  was  thrown  to  his  knees,  and  then 
jerked  to  his  feet  again  as  the  team  flung  across  the 
track  and  brought  up  plump  against  a  fence.  Czar 
was  severely  cut  and  bled  fearfully,  but  no  bones  were 
broken. 

"  After  hearing  the  evidence,  the  judges  awarded 
the  first  prize  to  West  on  the  ground  of  foul  driving. 


A   CLIMATIC   WONDERLAND          405 

' '  Michel  was  bitter.  He  said  that  West  could  easily 
have  avoided  the  collision  by  holding  in  his  team  when 
he  (Michel)  started  to  cross  to  the  inside  track.  He 
said  that  West  knew  he  was  beaten  and  purposely 
drove  into  the  collision  to  make  a  bluff  of  foul. 

"  Michel  has  an  excellent  reputation  as  a  sportsman 
and  a  fair  man.  If  he  committed  a  technical  foul,  it 
will  certainly  be  admitted  by  all  hands  that  there  was  no 
suspicion  of  unfair  or  improper  conduct  on  his  part. 
Chariot  racing  is  a  rough  sport.  Accidents  like  these 
must  occasionally  happen." 

The  excitement  at  the  Tournament  Park  over,  it 
was  soothing  to  drive  around  the  avenues  of  Pasadena 
and  see  whether  all  the  flowers  of  the  various  gardens 
had  been  used  in  the  day's  display.  To  one's  amaze 
ment  there  seemed  to  be  as  many  as  on  the  day  before, 
though  millions  must  have  been  used  in  the  decorations 
of  the  many  vehicles  in  the  procession. 

Though  the  afternoon  was  now  well  spent  there  was 
still  time  for  the  final  experience  of  this  unique  New 
Year's  Day.  An  hour's  ride  in  the  electric  car  and  the 
blue  Pacific  Ocean  awaited  us.  To  don  bathing-suits 
and  plunge  into  the  water  was  but  the  work  of  a  few 
minutes,  and  those  who  deem  it  impossible  to  swim 
in  the  ocean  in  midwinter  should  decide  to  experiment 
here  on  the  next  New  Year's  Day.  For  an  hour  or  more 
my  companions  and  I  dived  and  swam,  floated  and 
tossed  on  the  waves  and  in  the  surf,  and  then  enjoyed 
the  warm  winter  sunshine  on  the  beach. 

Here,  then,  is  a  true  record  of  the  day's  doings. 


4o6   THROUGH  RAMONA'S  COUNTRY 

Will  any  one  of  my  readers  henceforth  question  that 
the  land  where  such  enjoyments  are  possible  in  one 
day  is  indeed  a  climatic  miracle.  Helen  Hunt  Jack 
son  but  wrote  what  she  saw  and  felt,  and  we  who 
know  can  assure  the  world  that  "  the  half  has  not 
yet  been  told." 


THE 

UNIVEBSITY 


THE  END 


Books  by  George  Wharton  James 


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